Playing with Power
by Baphy1428
Summary: Carrying the memories of an abusive childhood home, Mark grew into a man who had given up hope. Having become interested in the story of Freddy Krueger, he sets out on an adventure in the hopes of ending his own life, only to resurrect the dream demon. Along the way, he meets Devin, his first true friend who helps him...but Devin might come to see him as more than just a friend...
1. Chapter1: A Crazy Hope

"Springwood, Ohio. 1991. The end of a 7-year horror in the small, US town. The exact number of casualties remains unknown with as many as 100 strange, unsolved, or related deaths reported in the case. All suffering their fate at the hands of one Freddy Krueger. But how could this possibly be? as Freddy Krueger was officially pronounced dead in 1974? Tune in next week for another bone-chilling episode of _Mysterious Murderers_."

As the images on the screen changed to an anti-drug PSA*, I grabbed the remote and clicked the set off. Letting out a groan, I sunk back into my raggedy couch and threw the remote onto the floor. I pulled out my phone to quickly glance at the time. 10:50 pm.

I missed my DAA* meeting again, but I had watched every episode of _Mysterious Murderers_ religiously for the entire two seasons it had aired and I wasn't going to choose listening to a bunch of recovering druggies drone on instead of seeing the latest episode. It had been a good one too. In the early 2000s, there had been a string of people found decapitated along Chile's coast...one for every year until 2009 when they suddenly stopped.

But something about this Fred Krueger story really sparked my interest. Maybe it was just the fact that I lived in Ohio. Either way, I really wanted to learn more and looking down at my arm...I wondered if I would still be here after another week...

I had worked a couple hours longer than my scheduled shift that day and when I made it home, I plopped onto the couch and fell asleep, still in my uniform. I woke up just before my show and during it, my hands found the box-cutter in my pocket and began fiddling with it. One thing led to another and...well, now my arm looked like I had stuck it into a box with an angry cat inside.

I had kicked the drugs, but then the self-harm got worse...

Sighing, I stood up and went to the bathroom to wash my wounds. They weren't really deep and they weren't even bleeding anymore, but I knew from experience that they still needed to be sanitized to stave off any infection.

1991... Hm...it was 2020 now so...this Krueger stuff happened like 30 years ago. I wonder if my family knew anything about all of it. I laughed out loud as soon as my mind finished the thought. Like that even mattered! My only living relatives were my deranged father and a half-brother that might not even exist. But 30 years, even though older than me, isn't really that long ago. Surely there are still people around who were there.

I turned the water off and dried my arms on the towel sitting on the counter beside the sink. I threw it back down when I was done, eagerly making my way to the computer in my bedroom. I reached to the keyboard and started typing 'Freddy Krueger Springwood, Ohio' before I even sat down. I went straight to images and there were only a few actual photos. Besides a mug shot, they were all from newspaper articles.

I clicked back over to 'web' and Google Maps immediately popped up in the results, suggesting directions. _Click._ Huh. It was only forty-five minutes northeast of here. I'm surprised that I never heard of it before...not that I'm particularly well-versed in the geographical arena.

I sighed again, even louder than before. Whatever, I growled, kicking the ground and spinning my chair to the side. Yeah, I was curious; I was interested, but what was the point in going to Springwoood or anything? I could just save my effort and wait to watch the episode next week. It's not like the trip was going to make me feel less pathetic.

I slowly turned back to the screen...

 _Directions to Springwood, Ohio- Quickest Route: 45 minutes._

Hmph. My weekend was starting soon... I could use the change of scenery. Besides, going on the trip wouldn't hurt me. And even if it did, oh well! I laughed out loud at my own morbid humor. Ok then, I'll go.

What? Where am I?

I awoke laying on my back in what appeared to be a dark forest. Jolting upward into a seated position, I quickly looked all around me.

"Hello?" I called.

There was no answer, but as I reached my feet, my ears picked up the sound of water flowing in the distance. I went looking for the source. After all, when lost in the wilderness, you're supposed to stay near the water.

I found my way in the darkness, walking under some strange looking trees, then through a cluster of prickly bushes before finding a river beyond. I could make out the silhouette of a person sitting on the shore. Moving closer, I began to feel very uneasy...something was wrong.

The figure didn't move as I neared it. My arm was outstretched, ready to tap them on the shoulder. Just as my hand reached its target, the person's head fell off its body, rolling toward my feet on the ground, an eerie smile on its face, eyes wide open.

I spun around quickly to start running, only to come face to face with Freddy Krueger.

I let out a blood-curdling scream as his jaw dropped an impossible amount, the darkness from within him enveloping me.

"AHHH!" I woke up screaming and drenched in sweat. A nightmare? I hadn't had one of those since detox a few years ago...

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**  
 ***** **PSA** **\- Public Service Announcement**  
 ***** **DAA** **\- Drug Addicts Anonymous**  
 **Please let me know what you think! I have other Freddy Krueger/Nightmare on Elm Street stories if you're interested. I also write my own original horror, fantasy, and sci-fi stories. :)**


	2. Chapter 2: Welcome to Springwood

I awoke just before noon that Saturday and quickly threw on some jeans and a tshirt. As I walked out the door, a thought struck me. I stopped and smelled myself. Sighing, I went back in to the bathroom and sprayed deodorant all over me and brushed my teeth.

The second time out the door was the first time in ages I'd go without seeing home for a period of several hours on a Saturday. I admit that part of me was nagging to just turn around and go back to bed, but the greater part was determined to at least make it to Springwood whether I learned anything or not. A sort of minor feat for myself, which was what my therapist was wanting anyway: for me to push my boundaries.

Though I wasn't sure why I decided to start listening to her now. Sitting in the driver's seat of my old Chevy sedan, I realized this apparent enthusiasm wasn't making me feel like any less of a piece of shit. I adjusted the mirrors, cranked the engine, and placed both hands on the wheel. I let out a long breath before shifting to reverse and backing out of the drive.

No, I still knew I was pathetic and worthless. There was no reason for me to live other than to suffer. So why did this feel so important? Was I honestly just that curious? I looked briefly into the rear-view mirror as I changed lanes and caught a glimpse of my own face. However, I didn't see a thin, dark-haired man in his early twenties...instead I saw regret, despair, and pain.

My therapist would have no doubt told me to relish those thoughts and to try to understand why they were the emotions I was feeling. She'd want me to delve deeper into this rare moment where I felt something other than nothing...but I had stopped seeing her months ago.

I had only been mandated to see her for a certain period of time as part of my rehabilitation. Even though she had said very little that helped, I could tell she honestly cared. So I saw her much longer than was required. Back then I still wanted to be saved; that wasn't so anymore.

Would Springwood hold the answer to my escape? Maybe it was my soul guiding me to a quick end- a way out of this endless torture. My thoughts then filled with visions of car crashes, dangerous hitchhikers, and even muggers.

Perhaps I would chance upon a thief on my journey. A man with a gun and nothing to lose would grow angry when he saw I had no valuables. In his fury, he'd shoot me three times in the chest and once in the head for good measure.

An eighteen-wheeler sped by me then, almost vibrating the small car that carried me. I watched as it passed and returned to the lane I was in. It seemed to disappear from my sight far too quickly. I glanced at my speedometer. I was going just above the speed limit at sixty-five mph. Damn. How fast had the truck been going?

My foot pressed down harder on the gas and my car gradually rolled faster and faster. After a few moments, I saw the truck again...or a truck anyway. I continued speeding towards it. Maybe this was how it'd end. The trailer became larger and closer with each passing second.

I could ram into the back of the truck...

The driver would barely feel a thing...a bit of a bump, maybe. He'd slam on his brakes and pull over. Jumping down from his seat, he'd start walking to the back until he saw my car halfway off the road and sideways. His heart rate would pick up then and he'd start to panic.

Getting closer to the scene, he'd see the bent hood and broken glass...looking more closely, the sight of my caved in skull and broken neck, covered in blood...tissue and flesh cut and hanging from all about...even perhaps my eyes would be ripped from their sockets and staring at him. Would his nose start to bleed as this vision devoured his thoughts?

I chuckled at the idea.

My thoughts returned to reality and I realized I was mere feet from the back of the truck. My eyes grew wide and I jerked the steering wheel to the left, removing my foot from the gas pedal and stomping onto the brakes. A horn sounded behind me. Shit! I had pulled out right in front of another vehicle!

I pounded on the gas once more, barely missing collision with the van behind me. My heart was racing as I passed the truck and got in front of it. The van then passed me, the passenger flipping me off. I didn't respond. I only began to look for the nearest exit.

 _Springwood, next right_

Oh.

A minute or two passed before the exit. My hands were still shaking as I made a soft right into the town. I had expected there to be a gas station or rest stop soon after, but I found myself driving several miles further before I finally reached anything and it was a small convenience store.

I drove into the lot and parked just in front. There was only one other vehicle there and the road behind me was equally empty. I knew I wasn't completely into the place yet, but it felt like a ghost town...

I took a few moments to make sure I was calm and collected before pushing my door open and going to the store's entrance. The door was glass and strangely heavy. Stepping inside, I caught the attention of the shopkeep. He was an older gentleman sitting low behind the counter, reading a newspaper. He glanced up and nodded a 'hello' to me. I smiled and nodded back as he returned to his paper.

I went to the rear of the store and grabbed a soda, then on my way back, a bag of original flavored potato chips. When I reached the old man and started to put my items on the counter, I saw that his paper was covering it and I retrieved my hands.

"Good afternoon," I smiled, hoping to get his attention.

He looked up at me and cleared his throat. I couldn't tell if he was scowling or if old age had just settled into the lines on his face. I kept my smile as folded the newspaper and set it to the side. I put my items down as he began to type into the register. My mind only then saw how old the building was. I turned around, letting my eyes have a quick sweep of the place. The inside structures were entirely wood as were the shelves. The freezers at the back were bulky and one was apparently leaking.

"$6.81," the man said.

I looked back at him as I pulled out my wallet. "Do you take cards?"

"No," he returned flatly.

I took my fingers off my debit and pulled out a ten and handed it to him.

"You're new," he stated, taking the bill and entering numbers into his machine again.

"Yeah," I agreed, "I'm a few towns away, actually. I just drove in to-"

"You been watching TV," he pointed.

I grinned awkwardly and scratched my head, "Yeah."

He stretched out his hand and I took my change. "You'll be wanting to talk to Maggie then."

"Who?"

There was a pause as he bagged my snack and pushed it across the counter to me. "Maggie Burroughs," he said. "1428 Elm Street."

"Oh. Maggie, 1428 Elm...got it," I grabbed my bag, "Thank you."

"No problem. Be careful," the man dismissed me, sitting back down to his newspaper.

Just as my hand touched the door handle, a thought came. I turned my head to look at the shopkeep again, "Who exactly is she?"

"A nutjob," he muttered.

"What?"

He looked at me and spoke up, "Fred Krueger's daughter."


	3. Chapter 3: Sympathy

I wasn't far off in calling the place a ghost town. driving further into Springwood, I found it just as bare as the area around the convenience store and it seemed that nothing had been updated in years. There were cracks, potholes, and other uneven places on nearly all the roads and most of the buildings looked like they were falling apart.

Except for a small group of teenagers hanging around a boarded up school, I had seen nobody else about. Quite odd for so early on a Saturday afternoon... As I drove closer by the kids, one of them strolled into the street, stopping when he was in the middle of my path. He was pretty tall. Must have been at least seventeen and he wore a long black trench coat, sleek hair past his shoulders to match.

I pulled my car to a halt, rolling down my window as the boy grinned at me, not leaving his spot. It was then I noticed he was carrying a baseball bat held low to his side. Great. That's how I'll die- mugged by angsty teens...

The rest of the troupe, two more boys and a girl, stood from their seats, the girl in the lead. She had brown hair cut so short that I almost mistook her for another guy, but under her dark band shirt, she was very developed. She took a few steps closer to me, swaying her hips in a short goth-style skirt with chains attached to it

"Hey..." I said to her, unable to manage a smile.

She continued on her stroll over to me, resting her arms above her head on the roof of my car as she peered in at me. "Where you going?" she demanded.

I looked at her, perplexed. She couldn't have been but fifteen yet she spoke with a confidence that most adults lacked. "1428 Elm Street," I finally said.

The girl smirked, looking over at the boy with the bat and nodding her head upward once. The boy in turn lifted his weapon, resting it on his shoulders before moving out of the road and joining his friend at my side. "He's going to the demon house," she told him.

The boy laughed, "And the fucking show hasn't even aired! You people really are thirsty, huh?"

At some point while I was focused on these two, the other boys had begun walking around my car. They too were dressed in black. Not really anything fancy, just plain shirts...one wore shorts and the other, pants. I wondered if they were looking to see if I had anything to steal or if they were just trying to intimidate me. Maybe it was both. I admit that it would have set me at unsease if I didn't already have a deathwish...

"Hey-" the girl smacked me lightly on the shoulder, pulling my attention from the others and back to her. "It's just down that way," she pointed in the direction I'd been headed.

"Oh, ok," I mumbled. "Google was right then," I chuckled awkwardly.

The girl scowled so I pulled my phone from my lap where I had the GPS up to lead me to this Maggie woman. Before I realized what was happening, she had grabbed the phone out of my hand and walked away from the car staring at its screen.

"HEY!" I yelled, grabbing the handle of the door to let myself out. However, just as I opened it, the tall guy pushed it back closed, dropping his bat to his side and glaring at me. Instead of fighting the delinquent, I sat back in my seat. Furrowing my brow, I did my best to peer around him at the girl.

He didn't do anything to stop me from looking at her and actually moved to the side a bit which allowed me to see better. She was walking in uneven circles, pushing buttons on the phone. It looked like she was sending a text or something. Finally, she started coming back over.

"This phone is a piece of shit," she declared, throwing the device inside my window. I leanes back in time to keep it from hitting me. It flew into the passenger seat, bouncing off it and landing in the floor.

"Yeah, well," I said with an obviously aggravated tone, "Does it look like I'm rolling in dough?"

The girl stopped in her tracks, her expression seemed to have softened as she gazed at me for a moment. Then suddenly she was grinning again. "Hey send the crazy lady my regards," she put her fingertips to her head in the shape of a gun before 'pulling the trigger.' The three boys immediately burst into laughter as she led the group back to their perches on the old school steps.

I let out an audible sigh and then rolled up my window. I continued on past the school and into the neighborhoods beyond. Once I was out of view of the teenagers, I shook my head. I tried not to let the events bother me. I knew they were just young. They also probably had their fair share of problems. I was a teen not too long ago myself. I looked up and down at the houses I was passing...and if I had lived here with so few people and nothing really to do...I'd probably have a bad attitude too.

I drove just as far as I could remember was the right way before halfway coming to a stop long enough to reach down and grab my phone. Looking back up, I clicked a button on the side of the device to illuminate the screen. I glanced down and saw that she had closed out the maps app. A low growl left me right as my eyes left it, my mind up realizing I had already reached a cross-section to Elm Street.

Relaxing, I stopped and looked for the house numbers on either side of the stop signs. 1225 on the right and...1229 on the left. I made a left turn.

1230...1250...I came to another stop sign. Nobody was around. Big surprise there. I kept going. 1300...1345...Many of the houses were boarded up...others were completely trashed...one or two had enough audacity to bear 'For Sale' signs. 1400...

1428.

It was the first nice-looking house I had seen since arriving. The two-story home was painted white with green shutters, green shingles, and a bright red door. There were two large columns holding up the porch ceiling that gave the place an air of wealth...like a mini-mansion almost. However, the steel bars covering all the windows, including the small outlook pane on the door, told a different story.

In the driveway to the left of the place was an older, but well-kept car. It looked to be some version of a town car and was either black or dark blue, I couldn't tell. I pulled closer to the yard and parked myself in the street. I was already going to a stranger's home unannounced. I didn't want to take any liberties by parking beside their vehicle and appearing any more rude.

I shoved my phone into my pocket and pushed my door open. Slamming it shut behind me, I walked up the sidewalk to the residence, stopping to take a deep breath before knocking lightly against the red paint. After a moment with no response, I knocked again, a bit louder.

Another moment passed and I saw a face appear behind the tiny, barred window at the top of of the door. I smiled at whomever it was and they quickly disappeared. I then heard a chain rustling just inside, followed by the sound of several locks being undone.

I took a step backward, off of the porch just as the door creaked open, showing a middle-aged woman. She was just a bit shorter than I, dark hair cut short and framing her face. She was thin and didn't wear her age well. Her eyes were bloodshot like she hadn't slept in quite some time and her face was fixed in a frown.

"Yes?" she said, surprisingly politely.

"Hi...I-um...My name is Mark," I introduced myself awkwardly, "Are you Maggie?"

The woman's eyes squinted as she took another step outside and scanned the area before returning them to me. "Can I help you?" she said in a tone that I couldn't tell if it was annoyance or worry.

"I-yeah, I just...I was wondering if I could talk to you about Fred-uh Freddy Krueger?" I admitted.

Then it was obvious she was annoyed. "Look, buddy," she became offensive. "I've talked about this as much as I'm going to. You can watch that goddamn TV show just like everyone else. I swear to god," she said this part more to herself than to me, "If one more person talks about me, getting people to think I have some grand story for them..." she trailed off.

I threw my hands up in apology, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. I-I'll go. Sorry..."

I began to leave when I saw she was staring at my arms. Shit. I pulled them close to me, quickly turning and heading to my car. I forgot to cover my wounds...She probably saw them and my deeper scars beneath them and thought I was some kind of wacko. I was halfway back to  
the street when I heard her call after me.

"WAIT!"

I halted, turning around to see she had come outside completely. She was wearing navy blue pajamas with a fluffy purple robe over them. Her feet were bare, but her toenails were polished which I found odd considering her otherwise disheveled appearance.

"I-I didn't mean to snap at you," she said softly, a slight smile reaching her lips. "Mark, you said?"

I nodded, still holding my arms against my body to hide their cuts. I noticed Maggie glance down at them again, "Did you drive here?" she asked.

I nodded again, "I live about an hour away."

"Look," she offered, "I know I look like shit, but...I think I still have some coffee made if you'd like to come in for a cup."

I took in the sight of the woman standing there on the sidewalk feeling sorry for me. I didn't want her to talk to me just because she pitied me, but at the same time, I did still want to learn about this Krueger guy...and even more than that...I wanted the company.

I managed a smile and released my arms, "That sounds nice. Thank you." 


	4. Chapter 4: Unexpected Therapy

The interior of the out-of-place home was equally as lovely though a little messy... There was a day room off to the right directly inside filled with canvases, paints, brushes, and a lot of other art supplies. In the center stood an easel, displaying an unfinished portrait of what looked like a shadow person. I couldn't help but to nearer and study the piece.

When I was young, I started having a lot of trouble with nightmares and sleep paralysis. It was a large part of why I started using as a teenager and became an addict as an adult. There were other factors, but I guess the constant reminder of those other things through my nightmares was the worse part of them all.

I stared at the painting, letting it consume me. It looked just like the ones I always saw...the ones that taunted me during the worst bouts of the paralysis...the ones I felt controlled my nightmares. They always seemed so real...

"Coffee?" the abrupt sound of Maggie's voice jolted me from my trance.

I turned and smiled awkwardly. She was standing there holding out a mug. "Thank you," I took the cup and followed her into the living room opposite us. There was a large leather couch and matching recliner centering around a flat screen television and an old record player. On the long coffee table in the middle of the room were several files, stacks of papers, and a couple of books. The woman took a moment to flip some of those things over before taking a seat in the recliner.

"Do you have sleep problems?" I asked, my eyes finding the art across the way again.

"Hm?" she followed my gaze to the portrait. "Oh," she said, "Um...yeah. You too?"

I nodded, "Since I was little."

"Why don't you sit down?" she motioned to the couch.

I looked away from the picture again and set sight on the sofa. It was a bit worn, but still looked fairly new. I took a seat in the middle of it, leaning forward and staring down into my mug. It was black. I had never drunk coffee without cream and some sort of sweetener. Even back when my nightmares were at their worst and I was doing all I could to stay awake.

"Oh, I forgot to ask how you took yours," Maggie said as if reading my mind.

I looked up.

"There's sugar in the freezer. Keeps the bugs away," she mused. "And I don't have creamer, but there's some milk in the icebox, if you'd like."

I mumbled a thanks and then stood up, taking my mug with me to the kitchen in the next room. The kitchen was just as nice as the rest of the house that I had seen. Fresh paint, stainless steel appliances, and cabinets and drawers that looked perfectly straight without any scuffs.

"Spoons in the drawer to the left of the sink!" the woman called from the living room.

I quickly found a spoon before retrieving the package of sugar from the freezer. After measuring out several spoonfuls of the sweetener into my mug, I put it back in its place. I then got the milk and poured as much of it as I could without the cup over-flowing. I put it back and then stayed behind just long enough to glance over the room once more. It was incredibly clean. Well, so had everywhere else in the place had been, but it was clean AND without papers and such cluttering it.

As I passed Maggie on my way back to the couch, I offered a brief 'thank you' to which she replied 'no problem.' Back on the cushiony chair, I started sipping my drink. To my surprise, it was fresh. I had expected it to be the remnants of the morning coffee and assumed it would be bitter, but it was just about perfect. I wondered if her morning had started late or if she just drank a lot of coffee...maybe because of the nightmares...

"It's good," I said. "I appreciate it."

She smiled, taking a drink from her own cup before prompting a conversation by saying, "I assume you've just heard about the _Mysterious Killers_ episode about Fred Krueger. I _am_ in it, but it hasn't been shown yet, so..." she trailed off.

I recognized her train of thought, "The man working at the convenience store on the corner of town...he told me to come here when I asked him about Freddy," I explained.

She tilted her head back for a moment. Her eyes were on me as if she was considering something...like whether I was telling the truth or like she knew the man and figured he had said more about her, yet not wanting to assume it. Her strong gaze made me feel awkward so I returned my attention to the coffee in front of me.

Finally, she spoke, "Is that right?"

I looked up to see she was still staring at me. Jesus. She was making me really uncomfortable. I put my eyes on the drink in my hands again, "He said you were his daughter. I mean that you were Freddy's daughter..."

"Uh-huh..." she said matter-of-factly.

I faced her again only to see her chuckle at my discomfort. Her lips fluttered upward as she continued, "It's ok. You didn't do anything wrong," she reassured, "I...just had figured he had and that's not really something to brag about...being the kid of a child molester and murder, ya know?"

"Child molester?" I repeated.

The woman sighed, "Yes. Back when my father was alive, he...he worked at a chemical plant here in Springwood. He was a janitor," she paused, looking down at her own cup, "He would kidnap children and take them to the factory's boiler room after-hours and...well..." she looked at me again and shrugged.

"And after he would kill them?" I asked, allowing her to skip the most unpleasant part of this back story.

"He had made a glove or gloves, actually, with long blades attached to the fingers. It's what he used... He murdered twenty children and burned their bodies there at the plant," she stopped to take another drink.

"Was he convicted?"

"No...unfortunately not... He was arrested, but there was a discrepancy in the filings that gave the courts no choice other than to set him free... Several of the parents though...they followed him back to the boiler room and burned him alive."

I straightened up at this bit of information, "I'm sorry. You said 'unfortunately,'" I pointed. "I don't want to seem callous or...or disrespect you because he is your," the woman raised an eyebrow so I cleared my throat and just spat it out, "It's just that I thought him being killed would be a...favorable? outcome?"

She sighed and looked off to the side for a moment. I could tell she was gathering courage to share the next part of her story with me. While I waited patiently, not wanting to push her, I remembered what the host of the show had said: _1991, the end of a reign of terror...Freddy Krueger was officially pronounced dead in 1974._

"How did he kill people after he died?" I said, offering her the fact that I wasn't there to judge her or call her crazy.

She returned her attention to me, letting out an odd chuckle before answering, "Well...a lot of- most, actually, will tell you that it's complete nonsense. That there was another killer who was never found or that there was some sort of epidemic, but..." she looked dead into my eyes, "Fred Krueger was reborn as a demon...a dream demon that haunted the children of Springwood while they slept. If he killed you in your dream...you died in reality."

She didn't release me from her gaze. She continued on with her stare and I knew she was waiting for my reaction. When my expression remained solemn, unmoving, and not speaking, she sat back in her seat and said, "I like to think this means you believe me or at least don't completely discredit me... I used to be very good with reading people. I was a therapist, actually, but," she admitted, "After all this time, I feel it's too much to hope that somebody else would consider this to be true."

I shook my head, my eyes darting from side to side, "I don't have any reason to doubt you," I said. "Especially when there is no other proven explanation or anything else supporting another reason behind all those deaths."

I put her in my vision again. Therapist, huh? No wonder she relented to talking to me after she saw my scars...

"You know," she changed to a lighter, yet still serious tone, "He did that too," she pointed to my arms. Damn, I was beginning to think she was a mind-reader.

"What do you mean?" I was confused.

"I'm not excusing anything he did, of course. However, he did have a terrible upbringing. He was the son of a rape victim who put him up for adoption. His adoptive father...was an alcoholic and extremely abusive. Fred began to cut himself...he taught himself at an age not much younger than yours, I imagine, to enjoy the pain so that he couldn't be hurt."

"Do you...do you think his past made him into a monster?" I inquired without thinking.

Maggie set her coffee down on the table, leaning close to me as if she was about to say something extremely important, "Mark, our pasts shape the way we think, the way we feel...and our experiences can influence our actions, but in the end, YOU are responsible for who you become."

I looked deeply into the woman's eyes. Seven years of intensive therapy...summed up in one sentence...one ashamedly obvious sentence...


	5. Chapter 5: Calm Down

I sat with Maggie for an hour longer before grudgingly leaving her company. She was so kind and I could tell that she honestly had worry for me. The only reason I left when I did was because the conversation had grown strained and I didn't want to further impose upon the woman.

As I got up to go, she stopped me, insisting I take another coffee for the trip. She gestured for me to follow her into the kitchen where she pulled out a sturdy travel mug and set it on the counter. As she poured into it, I protested taking her belonging with me. She just smiled and told me 'If you're ever in Springwood again, just bring it back.'

I didn't argue. I only added my sugar and milk, thanked her, and left. I liked the idea of having a good excuse to see her again and I felt that she had intentionally given it to me.

Maggie walked me to the door and waved me off as I loaded myself back into the car. I gave her one last smile and a wave back as I cranked the vehicle, set it in drive, and pulled away. I couldn't help but keep that smile as I left the house. Why couldn't more days be like this? You know, aside from those kids from before...

As the remembrance of them crossed my mind, I realized I hadn't looked at my phone for the past however-long it had actually been that I had visited with Maggie. I shifted in my seat, leaning at an odd angle in order to pull my phone from my pocket. Clicking the button to turn on the screen, I looked at the time It was a quarter past three pm.

Still early. I wonder how easy it would be to find the chemical plant where Freddy had worked? Maggie told me it had been abandoned for years. It would be interesting to see especially if I could get inside to the boiler room...

I kept driving in the opposite direction of where I had entered Springwood. Factories and plants like that weren't generally allowed within city limits so I figured if I went just outside town and drove around that I might find it. Maggie hadn't mentioned the name of it or any other details therefore I couldn't easily look it up on the maps.

What more I saw of the town looked just as bleak as the rest had. She had said that the place gradually started falling apart during all the post-death Krueger murders. After the last children left in Springwood had died, many of the adults moved away including the mayor and most of the emergency officers and court officials. Apparently there was one police officer who stayed behind and was in charge of most things unofficially. She said nobody new had moved into the town since her.

When she had told me that, I asked about the kids I had seen before I met her. She was adamant that no kids lived there...but said she couldn't be certain that there were none visiting or that some hadn't hitched a ride there or otherwise managed to wander in. Maggie had given me a concerned look and asked if I was absolutely positive I had seen minors at the school. I informed her I was, even if the boy with the bat had been older, the rest were definitely underage. I didn't say anything, but I could tell she was afraid about this dream demon returning because of them.

I exhaled into a yawn. I had gotten a few minutes past city limits. Slowing my car to a stop, I turned the steering wheel far to the right before revving into a u-turn and returning toward Springwood until I reached the first side outlet. I took the dusty country road, kicking up gravel, as I kept a lookout for anything that could be Freddy Krueger's old job site.

I don't know. Maybe I was crazy because yeah, a part of my mind was nagging that this dream-demon stuff was complete bonkers, but the biggest part of me...it did believe. Maybe it was because I had been high one too many times and my brain was fried or my problems with nightmares gave me an unrealistic view on things regarding spirits controlling dreams. Maybe it was because I was grasping at straws for a reason to live.

"Well, that was easy," I mumbled as my eyes caught sight of what _had_ to be the chemical plant.

I kept on until I came to the building's driveway. On a decrepit sign that was half-way on the ground, I could barely make out the words 'Springwood' and 'chemical manufacturers.' There was a chain-link fence or rather parts of one surrounding the area, yet nothing on the drive. So I pulled in as close as I could to the not-so-forgotten structure.

I put the sedan in park and took the key from ignition. I gave a quick once-around to make sure there weren't any other vehicles or people nearby. There weren't any cars and I appeared to be alone, so I got out and started walking. It wasn't quite as large as I had pictured it. It was two stories high and obviously a popular site for vandals. Even so, it still went without being boarded up. I looked around me again, feeling a bit paranoid for trespassing, but shrugged it off and entered anyway.

Part of the main floor was completely outside and there was trash and furniture strewn about. I was careful not to step on any of the hundred or so beer bottles around the entrance which was mostly made of metal, though it did have a couple of windows that were, of course, broken. I put my hand on the handle of the door between the shattered glass and tugged. When it didn't give, I pushed. Still nothing. Going in through the window, it is.

It wasn't hard to do. The panes were full-length and somebody had already taken the time to break the glass evenly down to its base. I stepped inside, tripping over another pile of beer bottles. I was thrown a few heavy steps forward before face-planting a wall. Luckily, though, it kept me from completely falling down. I took a moment to regain myself and then ventured deeper into the dark. I pulled out my phone and flicked on its built in flashlight. The area I was in was pretty small. Probably a lobby of some sort. There was the remnants of a desk to my side, behind which was another door, this one bent completely in half, the steel poking out sharply in several spots of the break.

I went closer, shining my light to see a staircase leading upward behind it. Knowing immediately ascending the stairs would be a bad idea, I still considered it for a moment. It was a good thing I did because it gave what few brain cells I had left to kick in and remind me that I was looking for the boiler room. Duh. That would be on the lowest floor. Was there a downstairs?

I turned away from the staircase and shone my light around, searching for another option of where to go. BINGO! I hadn't noticed it before due to the angle, but on the other side of that desk was a dip in the wall. My steps to it where careful so as to not trip again. That one small concave area had two openings, one at either end. I flashed my phone into the one on the right.

"JESUS!" I screamed as the light alerted my presence to a mischief of rats. Some of the rodents scurried about in response, their little claws making scratching noises. One ran out across my shoe, causing me to jump. I had never honestly seen a wild rat in person and only ever seen a rat at all once.

I stayed motionless for a few seconds a bit shocked, before I could manage to back away slowly, keeping my phone up to see if they were going to come after me or something. I watched several pairs of little black eyes staring at me as I continued backing up and realized that the little guys were actually just as spooked as I was...and also...were pretty fucking cute.

I put my phone down, spinning around before raising it again. There in the second opening, were more stairs. These were leading downward. Traversing them wasn't a good idea either, but...I'd come this far. Anyway, if I fell and it didn't kill me, surely one of the party-goers would find me, I halfway laughed. I grabbed onto the first bit of railing and pointed the flashlight below. Wow. There were a couple of steel-floored levels down there. I looked the best I could and everything seemed fairly in-tact.

Using one hand to illuminate my path and the other to hang tightly onto the rails, I began my descent. Every few steps, I would shine the light around to get a better idea of where I was. Each time I revealed nothing new except that I was closer to the bottom. Everything else looked the same...and it was kind of freaking me out. As I reached the top layer, I planted my feet firmly onto the metal beneath me and gazed back at the steps. I could still see a bit of sunlight from where I had begun. That was comforting. I walked a few paces, running my hand along the pipes alongside me. They were almost chilling to touch. I pulled my hand off upon seeing some sharp breaks in the upcoming pieces.

"Heehee!" the sound of a little girl giggling echoed through the steel.

"Hello?!" I spun around in circles, throwing my phone up and down to shine into every crevice.

What the fuck? My heart was racing. Ok, dude, calm the fuck down...you're just a little spazzed out and imagining things. That or one of those vandals I teased about was in here too. I leaned back against the pipes, eyes scanning side to side. "Hello?" I called again, but there was no answer. Everything was silent once more. Breathe...breathe... Keeping my light up, I practiced the deep breathing exercises that my therapist had taught me years ago. Inhaling slowly and then exhaling just as deliberately. After a few of those, my heart started to settle and I stood straight again.

Walking to the edge of the floor I was on, I shown my light down to the bottom layer. There was a huge steel column with something resembling a door with a grate on it. That had to be one of the boilers. I made my way to the next set of stairs and trekked them as carefully as the first. When I reached the final floor, I looked back up. This time, I couldn't tell if I saw any light from the entrance my phone was casting a small reflection from the metal above.

"Brr," I muttered.

It was cold down here and it didn't help that it felt even more eerie too. Clearing my throat, I shrugged it off and went nearer to the boiler I had spotted. I looked up and down the column. There was water or something dripping off it. Rainwater from a previous storm? Most likely. No way was this place still connected to the city's system. I took another step, eyeing the grated door. It was completely black. Reaching out with my free hand, I touched it, then examined my fingers. Nothing but dust. The soot was entirely burnt onto it. I glanced behind me again. It was quiet...still no company that I could see. I inched forward, squatting to be level with the opening. Peering inside, I saw enormous piles of ash. Not even any bits of trash or scraps of any sort...absolutely nothing. Everything was perfectly cremated.

 _SSCCCCCCCCCHHHLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKK!_

The sound of metal scraping against metal sounded loudly within the boiler. I jerked my head out instantly, banging it against the top of the entrance.

"DAMN IT!" I yelled.

Rubbing the spot I had hit, I turned and peered into the darkness. Still, there was nothing. Fuck it! That was it. I was getting the fuck out of here. I rushed to the staircase, not bothering to be too careful, knowing now it was a safe passage. I took hold of the railing, but as I placed my foot on the first step, I heard a little girl giggle again. I shot around to face where it had sounded from, dropping my phone in the process.

"Holy fuck..." I muttered, my voice shaking as I stood frozen shitless at what I saw in the distance, barely illuminated by my fallen cell.


	6. Chapter 6: Piece of Shit

The shadowy figure of a person stood there maybe ten yards from me. I couldn't make any details out about their appearance as the few slimmers of light shed on them by the phone I had dropped were just barely enough to show that somebody was there at all. However, it wasn't the presence of someone else down in the boiler room that frightened me.

The figure I saw had their right arm stretched to the side, hand resting on the pipes lining the wall beside them. On top of their fingers were long metal blades scraping along the steel of the pipes as they stepped a few feet forward. The sight put itself together in my mind that this stranger wore Freddy Krueger's famed glove and they were taunting me with it. My eyes widened as the sight sunk in. Was this...was this really the ghost of Fred Krueger? Or rather the dream demon Freddy was reborn as? Freddy _was_ real? No, I was awake... This had to be someone joking around.

"Haha," I forced the fake laugh out with a sarcastic tone and then threw my hands in the air in surrender. "You got me."

There was no response from the stranger. He stood absolutely still. So I stepped forward to retrieve my phone, but just as soon as I did, the Freddy pounced toward me with a growl, twitching his knife-clad fingers in a threatening clicking sound. I immediately jumped back, the railing behind me shaking as my back planted against it. I somehow managed to return to my feet quickly.

"Hey man, it's not funny. Cut it out!" I tried to remain confident, but my voice cracked.

"BOO!" a loud yell sounded directly beside my left ear.

Startled, I fell to the side, noticing another person as I faltered. Their body was leaning down from the stairs that I had been standing in front of. The bent figure began laughing in a deep, hardy manner. He brought his right hand into view to show that it was also adorned with one of the special gloves. Continuing in the direction of my fall, I stepped away, trying to get a better look at him since he was much closer. But at the same moment I strained my eyes, the ray from my phone disappeared, causing me to tear my gaze in its direction to see see a boot standing on the device, blocking the light.

The boot belonged to the foot of a now chuckling being standing tall and making an obvious show of the claw on their own hand. The pair began walking towards me...slowly as if to deliberately draw out my torture. I moved in unison with them, never turning to look away, doing my best to keep the distance between us. What the fuck was up with these guys? Were they planning on actually hurting me or was this all just a joke going too far for my own comfort? The bottom floor of the chemical plant was all but pitch black. The tiniest fraction of light came from the above entrance. It was enough for me to see the others down in the hole with me, but not nearly bright enough for any real details to be made. Profiles at best.

I couldn't seem to find words again, not that I thought they would do me any good. Most likely if I spoke, it would only play more into their little fantasy...especially since if I _did_ manage to speak, it would no doubt come out reflecting the fear I was feeling. So instead, I opted to keep silent as I kept easing backward. But that didn't work for long either. After only a few moments, I bumped into something. I first expected it to be the hard wall of the boiler. However when it wavered to my touch, a half-turn revealed that I had run into a third assailant.

When my face looked upon theirs, they started to laugh which made a chain reaction with their two companions to chortle at my misfortune again as well. I was caught in the middle of the three strangers who were taking their time closing in. All three wore similar versions of the Freddy Krueger claw-glove that Maggie had shown me pictures of earlier. She said that her father had had several of the weapons made. I just had assumed they'd all be in a police evidence locker somewhere or otherwise lost. I suppose there was always the possibility that others had been made by 'fans' of the stories. The thought of that being true was somewhat sick, yet at the same time I would have done something like that too.

As the circle around me grew smaller, there was nothing left for me to do except stop and wait for whatever they were had planned. I would generally be of the mind to at least try to fight back even though I was both outnumbered and defenseless against their weaponry. However, my mental state hadn't improved to the point of justifying expending the effort to fight them when I really still just wanted life to end. So I just stood there.

The strangers held their knives up not even inches from my face, alternating between moving the finger blades slowly and quickly. I felt my ears start to ring with the sounds of the metal in the otherwise silent building. My attackers' laughs had ceased, but I could still feel their eyes upon my face, reading for any sign of fear. Though at that point, I was no longer frightened. I knew there was nothing for me to do. These impostors would hurt me, kill me, or leave me alone. I only had to wait to find out which one and go from there.

"You're no fun," a familiar voice suddenly complained.

The three Freddies around me dropped their hands and backed partially to their sides, facing a fourth person. It was the teenage girl from earlier. I only knew by her voice and the fact that she had my phone in her hand again. The flashlight was off, but the screen was illuminating her face, showing that she was scowling at me. I should have guessed it was just these delinquents.

"You know," I said, strength returning, "For it to be such a piece of shit, you sure do keep playing with my phone." I meant the words to be more of joke than anything else, but I think my aggravation at being bullied by these kids _again_ had shown through them too much for it to be taken as one.

The girl grinned and got closer, "Bite me," she laughed, "I'm bored."

I glanced around at the boys before adjusting my shirt and speaking again, "Do you guys make a habit of threatening strangers with knives when you're bored?"

"Oh but we've already met!" one of the younger boys that was standing beside me said in a fake tone of excitement, causing the other two to chuckle.

I rolled my eyes and responded flatly, "I'm still a stranger to you. You don't even know my name. Besides," I added, "You do know that this is a serious offense, right? Even at your age, you can be punished for doing something like this...even serve time in juvie. Except you," I turned to the oldest boy on my other side and pointed at him, "You're old enough you could be tried as an adult."

The smile on the trench coat clad teen left and he snickered at me, "So what, you going to report us, then? Can't take a little joke?"

"No," I scoffed. "I don't care enough to report you. I just want to know if you're through bothering me because I'm hungry and ready to get home."

The boys exchanged glances with each other before looking over at the girl who simply shrugged. The oldest teen stepped aside, letting me pass him to get to the stairs. As I started the ascent, I heard the girl call after me.

"Wait!"

I stopped and looked down at her. She had run to the bottom of the case to speak to me, "Don't you want your phone back?" she wasn't even trying to act tough anymore.

I stared at her for a moment before continuing on my way, "Keep it," I yelled back. "It's a piece of shit anyway."


	7. Chapter 7: Intruders

I made it back home at five-thirty that evening after stopping by the store and picking up a cheap pay-as-you-go phone. It was a bit smaller than my previous phone but an even bigger piece of shit. Its web capabilities were terrible. Fortunately, that wasn't the reason I bought it. I only got it on the off chance that I would need to make a call. Not that I had any friends or family to talk to. It was just for emergency...so I didn't really care how much it sucked.

I wasn't entirely certain why I had left my other phone with the girl. I suppose mostly I just didn't feel like bothering with trying to get it back. However, there was a part of me that felt that she actually had liked the phone. I could be wrong, but that was the sense I got nonetheless. I didn't think the teenagers were bad kids or anything though they were definitely on the road to some serious trouble if they didn't get a reality check. Or something...

Laying in my bed, I set alarms for my work days on the new phone before placing it on the nightstand beside me and returning to stare at the ceiling. This had been the most eventful day I had had in months...possibly longer...and coupled with my depression, had made me extremely tired. Something was keeping me from going to sleep though. I was on my back, on top of my blankets that I'd haphazardly thrown back on the bed that morning instead of taking the time to neatly fold them and straighten my pillows. I wanted to lift myself and crawl underneath it, but my mind felt like it was in overdrive.

Thoughts of the kids and what may have driven them to treat me how they had...to even be in Springwood in the first place...circled in my head along with visions of Freddy Krueger slicing little children to pieces, being burned to death, and then coming back to further terrorize his hometown in people's dreams. Then I thought about Maggie. Damn, she'd been through a lot herself. It saddened me to see her alone, tied to that ghost town, with apparently most people viewing her as batshit insane. And she had been so kind to me... I really wanted to be able to help her, but I couldn't even make myself better so how would that work?

I turned my head to the side to look at my arm. I had agitated the fresh cuts with clutching them so tightly before in an attempt to hide them from her even though they had already been seen. In a few places, the scabs had been pulled away causing them to bleed again. Now there was dry blood in wavy lines and in spots between the cuts. Suicide was never far from my mind. Even so, I wasn't strong enough to actually do it. It wasn't that cutting or hurting myself bothered me. I had unfortunately grown a liking for it. I wasn't afraid of pain. I was afraid of death. As much as I wanted to be rid of this bullshit pathetic life of mine, I had no conviction of what the afterlife was, great enough to keep me from worrying.

Maybe there wasn't anything after death. Maybe, like I'd heard many atheists say, that we simply stopped existing. This life was all we had. All we were guaranteed. If that were true, the idea of death was very comforting to me. On the other hand, what if God does exist? If I had to stand before an all-knowing being for judgement...for him to decide whether I could live in paradise or be condemned to be tortured for eternity...would I pass the test? Doubtfully. And then what about reincarnation or if one of the numerous other theories of what happens in the afterlife are true? What if I died and the next life was equally horrendous or perhaps even worse? Would I get caught up in an endless cycle of life, agony, death, and then agony again?

There was so much uncertainty...so many unanswered questions...I didn't know if I could end my life myself. However if I _happened_ to die in some sort of accident or by someone else's hands...I'm sure I would be happy for it. At least in that moment and that was all I could really ask for- a new chance at happiness. My brain continued to scramble from topic to topic for another hour before my body gave up and fell asleep. The dreams I had were all over the place as well. None of them made much sense and the ones that did seemed to have some logic to them but never lasted long enough for the story to finish. Even asleep, I found this frustrating.

I had to have been in slumber for several hours before I finally awoke to the sound of thunder and the vibrations of lightning striking not far away. I shot up in bed having caught a glimpse of four figures in black perfectly spaced in a circle around my bed during the brief flash of light. My eyes widened as I reached to my side in the darkness for the lamp sitting next to my crappy phone. Pulling its string, I expected the sight to have been in my head. However, as the synthetic light lit my bedroom well enough to erase any shadows, I saw that the figures were still there. And they weren't just random strangers...it was the goth delinquents from before.

"Jesus," I muttered, pulling my legs closer to me.

The three boys and the girl stood unwavering, just staring at me. Their expressions were emotionless. I blinked my eyes a few times and shifted in the bed and yet they remained the same. Fuck. I'm dreaming, I concluded. I took a deep breath in, closing my eyes. I counted in my head until I reached thirty, then began chanting to myself silently. _It's just a dream. It's just a dream. I'm in control. I'm in control._

I opened my eyes once more. The teenagers had broken their semi-circle and were now standing closely together by my bedside. Their faces had changed too. The girl wore a small smile with the boy in the trench-coat now holding his baseball bat up as if in attack mode. He had a hint of a smirk on his face while the two younger boys stood on either side of him seemingly trying to contain laughter.

Throwing my legs off the side of the bed opposite them, I kept them in my vision. I cautiously stood before turning to face them. Furrowing my brow, I glanced around the room. Everything else looked normal. My door was even still open just as I had left it when I returned to my bedroom that evening. Dreams, even lucid ones, had a tendency to play themselves forward with or without your consent. Knowing this, I stood and waited patiently for what my subconscious thoughts planned to throw at me next. After a few minutes or at least what I perceived as minutes, the girl exchanged glances with the older boy and the other two stopped smiling.

"You're not dreaming," the girl finally said.

I stepped closer to my bed and rested my hands on it, still eyeing the intruders. I ran my fingers over the blanket beneath them, taking in the feel of the fabric. I looked around the room again and then back to the kids. I guess it was the odd occurrence of the troupe in my bedroom along with their unusually intimidating presence that had me convinced otherwise. But I realized she was right. This wasn't a dream. These fucking kids were in my fucking house. Uninvited. How the fuck did they even find me? Damn it. They had found something on my phone that led them here, didn't they?

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I yelled at them. "Look, I understand that you guys have some shit going on or whatever, but you realize you're stalking me, right?" I shook my head, stepping back to my nightstand and picking up my phone. "This is ridiculous," I growled, "I'm not putting up with this."

As I began calling 9-1-1, the girl walked over to my bed and sat down, "Have fun with that," she said casually.

I looked back up at them. None of them seemed worried at all. My initial thought was that they were just going to beat me before I could finish the call. My eyes shot between the girl on my bed and the rest of her posse. They didn't do anything. They just stayed as they were, unmoved, watching me. The boy still wearing his trench coat even let his bat drop down to his side again and the girl had pulled out her new phone and was texting.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" someone on the other end of my line picked up.

I hesitated. The teenage girl sitting on my bed had raised her own phone in the air, holding it so that its screen faced me. She hadn't been sending a message...she had been typing _me_ a message.

"Hello?" the emergency operator spoke into my ear.

 _We can help you,_ read the text on the phone she held in front of my face.

"Hel-" I clicked the end call button on my own phone before removing it from my cheek just as the operator began speaking again. My eyes still focused on the girl as she lowered the screen, I sat on the bed myself, putting my phone on the blankets beside me. "What are you talking about?" I asked in a hushed tone.

"I know this way you've been acting," she said, "I've seen it before...many times... You don't want to be here."

My eyes searched hers. She did know. It was odd seeing the young girl show such intuition...but she understood my suicidal state. "What's your name?" I asked.

"Emma," she answered.

"It's a pretty name," I copped out.

"I'm not interested in that," she spoke again somewhat defensively. "Do you want our help or don't you?"

"I don't see how you guys can help me. I mean, what- do you need your first blood for some sort of gang initiation?" I scoffed.

She remained solemn, "We're not going to kill you...Freddy is."

I lifted an eyebrow as I studied her face for any hint that she was making a joke. When I didn't see anything other than sincerity, I looked past her to the boys who appeared just as serious. What the fuck was this? Everything told me to react like it was just a little game of theirs. They had already made it abundantly clear they were fixated on me and our only meetings thus far had been them bullying me...and breaking into my house...

Yet I couldn't keep myself from being curious...from believing that just maybe all this stuff was real after all. I didn't know why it would be a good thing that it was either, except for the possibility being so impossible and therefore interesting. Freddy would kill me, huh? My gaze was intent on Emma. Not really the typical offer given to a suicidal person...to have someone end their life for them... That she was suggesting it at all was intriguing.

"Freddy...right...How exactly is that, since he's dead?" I asked, deciding to play it safe with my response.

"You know exactly how," she pointed. "He may have been banished back to Hell for now...but we're going to bring him back."

My brows were raised again, "What- just to kill me? I appreciate your _concern,"_ I said sarcastically, "But why the fuck would _you_ want to bring back a dream demon that literally kills kids in their sleep?"

Emma leaned her head forward ever so slightly, an evil grin suddenly plastered on her face. "Because he killed me and my friends...and I want him...so that I can make that bastard suffer...forever."


	8. Chapter 8: Demons

"What the fuck," I couldn't help from saying it out loud. ''Are you being figurative or...''

The girl beside me widened her eyes as she dropped her bottom lip and shook her head. I imagined she was thinking something along the lines of 'oh wow what an idiot.' I looked past her to her posse for a moment to see that all of them were retaining the same somber expressions and stances.

''Okay...'' I changed my tone, ''the four of you are dead...right.'' My gaze dithered between looking at Emma and at the other teens standing behind her.

''Just prove it to him, Em, so we can move forward with this,'' one of the young boys rolled his eyes.

Their leader gave an exasperated sigh as she stood, looking down at me, ''Where's your razor?'' she demanded.

''Um, what?''

She took a heavy step toward me, grabbing my wrist before I could even think to react. She pulled on it harshly until my forearm was vertical directly in front of my face, ''Where the fuck is your razor?'' she repeated in an angry voice.

I looked from the cuts and scars on my arm and back to her, ''It's in the den,'' I almost whispered.

She threw my arm back down and stormed out of the bedroom; her posse following quickly behind. I sat in my bed watching after them until they were all out of sight. Then I glanced around the room. If this wasn't a dream... I put my hands onto the blankets beside me and rubbed them once more. Not a dream. OK then...if this wasn't in my head...if I hadn't finally lost it, what the hell had I gotten myself into?

''Hey! Get your ass in here!'' Emma called from the other room.

I took a deep breath and stood. How pathetic was I being a grown man and letting some teenage girl boss me around? But then again...if Freddy _had_ killed her and his last murders had been three decades ago, then I guess she was actually older than me. I sauntered into the room at the other end of the hallway. Emma had located the box-cutter that I had left on the coffee table and was standing in front of the TV waiting for me. The guy with the bat was leaning against the back of the front door of my apartment, scowling and not appearing to be focused on anything while the two others had made themselves comfortable on my couch with eyes on their leader.

Emma slid the utility blade in her hand open two notches. I listened to the familiar clicking sound of the tool settling into place. She gripped the handle and carefully reached with it over to her opposite arm, resting the blade against her skin.

''Wait, wait just a second,'' I spoke, as what little sense I had caught up with what she was doing. One of the boys on the couch twisted his neck to laugh at me while the other kept his eyes on Emma, a wicked grin stretching across his face. Trench coat guy at the door stayed the same. ''Don't-'' I started again but I should have known that any protest to any of this group's members would be futile.

Emma, in one quick, fell swoop, dug the blade deeply into her inner wrist and dragged it upward through the entire length of her forearm, ripping her flesh apart. Blood gushed out in a few different spots as the veins and arteries were torn before easing to slight, sparatic spurts of crimson. The thick red liquid dripped across the white, undamaged parts of her skin like rivers. These streams met at her elbow and fell to the floor beneath where she stood. My vision followed the drips all the way to the ground, watching them stain the once beige carpet an almost sickening yet beautiful maroon color. For a moment, I forgot where it was coming from and what was going on. All I could think about was how much there was...how it had to mean death...and how that thought comforted me.

However, the feet standing in the growing puddle of blood moved then, jarring me from my daydream. My head shot back up, eyes on Emma. The girl stood there, unwavering. Her body was strong, but as I looked into her green eyes, I saw a great sorrow. I wanted to speak. To comfort her. To cry for help so that I could save her from dying. I wanted to do so much! But I was too weak... So instead, I just stared.

''Look,'' her voice was soft...compassionate then.

Her eyes went from me down to her arm. Mine did the same, once again in awe of the grave wound. She twisted her arm abruptly and let it fall back into place. The gash, the cleanly cut flesh, the blood, the beautiful horror...it was gone! Just like that... My jaw dropped and I gawked at the scene as the girl made a fist once, then twice, and then allowed her arm to come to rest on her hip as her expression hardened once more and a teasing smirk reached her face.

I stepped further into the room, eyeing the carpet around her. It was like nothing had happened. ''Um...yeah, Okay...'' I scratched my head, focusing on Emma and the others once more. ''I'm convinced.''

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the now confirmed ghost in the trench coat at the door smile. I turned my attention to him and he likewise turned his head in my direction. ''What's your name?''

''Damian,'' he replied gruffly. ''And that's Chris and Todd,'' he added, gesturing toward my couch with his chin.

''Hi..'' I turned back awkwardly to the kids? ghosts? whatever... sitting behind me. They both waved and chuckled.

''So this is what we need you to do,'' I spun around at the sound of Emma's voice. She had thrown the razor back on the table and crossed her arms under her chest. ''We-''

''Wait, hold on!'' I squeaked. ''I never agreed to anything here!

Damian lifted himself from the door and strolled between Emma and me, taking a position facing me. Our noses were almost touching. ''You want to die, don't you?'' he asked.

''Well, yeah, but-''

''You gonna do it yourself?'' he pressed, not even waiting for my full answer to his first question.

''I don't-'' I started, then realized that I wasn't talking to just anyone... These guys were already dead. They could teach me so many things, couldn't they? All these things I wondered about existence after death.

''Would there even be a point?'' I countered his interrogation with my own inquiry.

I didn't think it was possible, but he got closer to me, furrowing his brow and steeling his eyes into mine. ''I don't know. You tell me. You're the one with such a shitty life.''

The statements came out with such cruel contempt that I couldn't help but shiver. As soon as I felt it, I tried not to let it show. However, I failed...as was proven with the cold toothy grin he gave me before stepping back to the side and letting Emma take the lead again.

''The short answer, _Mark,_ '' she stressed my name as her eyes trailed after her friend and then resituated upon me. ''Is that death and what happens after is unique to everyone. We can't judge for you if you should force your own end or not.''

After Damian's chilling words, hers sounded warm and caring. However, after the initial shock of him wore off, I understood that she was only speaking matter-of-factly. I barely caught what she said and found it difficult to focus. My mind and my vision, kept returning to Damian. He had resumed his normal sentry-like pose a couple of yards from the rest of us. I couldn't help but to feel a hidden story behind the things he had said to me...

 _You're the one with such a shitty life._ He had made certain to emphasize 'shitty' like he was in firm disbelief that my life was so bad that I should want or need to end it. My first thoughts to this were defensive.

Growing up, not as a teenager even, but a young child that could barely walk or talk, living with the constant fear, each and every day, that maybe it was finally the day your guardian would throw you hard enough you'd die... Always wondering if they would burn, hit, cut, or choke you that day...or even conduct some new form of torture they hadn't done before just so they could get a bit of entertainment... Living with the constant pang of hunger in your stomach or the cold of winter tearing daily through the holes of your raggedy clothes... All because any money they acquired was used for alcohol or cigarettes...

''Mark? Are you listening?'' Emma tore into my thoughts once more.

''Yeah, sorry...'' I muttered. And I had been somewhat although I wasn't really understanding everything she was saying.

She sighed and backtracked. It was apparently pretty obvious that my mind was elsewhere. ''Somebody still alive has to make a doorway for Freddy to get back into the dream realm because the dead don't dream. His daughter was the last child from Springwood so she was his last connection to the dreams. Bringing him into the real world at that point took him completely out of the dream one at last.''

''So when she killed him in the real world, it was like he died for the first time all over,'' I finished, ''Except he was a demon this time not human.''

''Yeah,'' Emma agreed. I could tell she was trying to figure out where my mind had been. ''So he went straight to Hell.''

''So what? When you kill a demon, it loses its powers?'' I asked, trying not to let my mind wander this time.

''No...he still has his powers...but he's stuck in Hell. He hasn't been able to re-establish a connection with the human world...to the dreamscape,'' she answered.

''As far as demons go,'' Damian spoke up. His smirk had faded and I felt that he only said anything now in order to allow my thoughts to be both intent on him and the matter at hand. ''Freddy Krueger is extremely young. He hasn't gotten full control of his powers.''

''You're kidding,'' I interrupted which seemed to annoy the ghost, but I didn't care. ''Seems to me he's been very powerful.''

''That was in the past,'' Emma was talking again. A brief moment of realization brushing her face as she looked from her partner and to me. ''The dream demons that originally allowed him his place amongst their kind were still channeling their own strengths through him. Now that he has died and been removed from their grace, he is on his own.''

''I see...'' I murmured. ''So you want me to give him a connection to our dream realm again? So...so that you can _make him suffer_?'' I used my fingers to make air quotes.

Both she and Damian nodded. I looked over to Chris and Todd who had stayed in their seats this entire time. Their smiles were gone. They gave me short nods as well.

''Uh ok, but,'' I mused, ''Isn't he already in Hell? The job of torturing him is taken care of, then, isn't it?''

Damian scoffed, the bat reappearing in his hands as he resumed his position at the door, idly swinging the weapon from side to side in front of him. Emma dropped her arms from their curl underneath her breasts and placed them on either hip. She thrust her right hip to the side and shook her head as if my conclusion had been idiotic. ''Hell is just the name of the realm where demons live,'' she said.

''So...evil people don't get sent to Hell for punishment when they die?'' I asked, suddenly very interested. Emma and Damian exchanged glances. I threw up an open palm and raised an eyebrow. I didn't understand the hesitation. They obviously knew the answer. Why didn't they just say it?

''Just think of demons more like...just spirits that live there like humans live here,'' Damian smiled. ''Krueger was turned into a demon when his human life ended so now that's his home.''

I steadied my sights on him, narrowing my eyes and sighing. I guess that was as good of a response as I was going to get and I was suddenly scared with the prospect of dying again. ''I don't know...'' I trailed, scratching my head again. ''Your vague answers about things... How can I trust everything you say? How do I know _I_ won't get sent to Hell and tortured by the demons then?''

''By the way you make it seem,'' Damian tilted his head, stilling the bat in front of him before throwing it to rest over his shoulder. ''You already have plenty of demons fucking with you here on Earth.''


	9. Chapter 9: Astral Travel

"You know what?"I growled at the smug ghost, unable to hold back my rage at his insensitivity toward me any longer, "You have no fucking idea what I've been through, what my childhood was like, what I've had to endure! So stop standing there and berating me until you get a fucking clue!"

I had walked closer to him as I barked, but my sudden outburst seemed to do nothing but amuse him as I saw his lips play with a smirk. Emma, on the other hand did appear taken aback though I could barely see her out of the corner of my vision. After a moment of silent anger between Damian and I, she reached a hand out and took hold of my upper arm, tugging me around to face her again.

"Mark, calm down," she ordered.

My gaze fell from the guy leaning on my door to the girl who had grabbed me. Settling on her face, I saw that her expression was stern yet her eyes were soft...understanding. I took in a deep breath and calmed the rage but turned my agitation toward her, "So, I'm assuming you've got a plan for me to connect to Hell or whatever and allow Freddy into my dreams?"

Emma straightened up, removing her hand from my arm with a confused look, yet she didn't speak. She just watched as I stepped away, back around the couch toward my bedroom, plopping my back with a thud against the wall opposite of the ghosts and hanging my head as I continued trying to relax. _Jesus, Mark, get it together._ I needed to think... Was this really a good idea? It could all be a trick. I mean, granted I didn't wake up and realize that it was all some vivid dream or hallucination, that is. What if they had ulterior motives? What if they were the demons? Krueger himself even, and this was all a ploy to use me to get back here...and keep using me to stay in this world?

Then again, if they were telling the truth...was this really what I wanted? Would it work and would he really just do away with me like that? I was still frightened about dying, but thinking about my life as it was...living with all the memories and the pain...stuck in a dead-end existence and never progressing...what did I have to lose? If I gave up this chance, I may go the rest of my pathetic life regretting it. From what I could tell, dying by his hand meant he was consuming my soul so that meant I would be completely destroyed, right? No body or soul left to linger... I still found it odd that this chick seemed to understand how depressed I was yet unlike others, was offering me a way to off myself instead of urging me to keep going and get better. Perhaps she knew something I didn't. Well, _that_ was obvious... What I meant was maybe she was bound by some rule not to tell me, but knew that this was the best course for me.

"Alright," I finally said, lifting my head to look at the teens, "What do I do?"

Emma's reaction wasn't what I had expected. Instead of immediately returning to her take-charge attitude, her expression was soft at first, contrasting the smirk that Damian was wearing and the excited high-five that the younger boys gave each other. I wondered what the reasoning was because it confused me that she wasn't happy to have gotten my consent. However, I didn't have long to ponder as she soon joined in with the others, letting a smile spread across her face before beginning to give me instructions.

"Have you ever heard of astral travel?" she asked.

"Uh," the question threw me off. What did any of this have to do with spaceships? "I don't see what that has to do with anything, but yeah, sure."

The kids on my sofa giggled, drawing my gaze as Todd spoke, "I don't think you know what it is then, you dodo."

I turned my head to look back at the girl who was rolling her eyes as she continued, "Astral travel, astral projection...out of body experience?"

Oh, I guess I was off, "You mean like when you wake up and you're looking over your body laying in bed? Like your soul jumped out of your body and is staring at it?"

"Yeah, exactly," she confirmed. "Astral travel is when you do this consciously."

My eyebrow raised, "Make my soul...leave my body...on purpose...without killing myself?"

"You're talking to ghosts; you believe in demons; and this sounds crazy to you?" Emma's brow furrowed as she crossed her arms in a judgmental stance.

"Oh, well, I-" my eyes widened and then fell awkwardly to the floor. Good point, dead chick... "So I need to astral travel to Hell?"

A brief look of annoyance flashed over her, but she quickly answered, "Yeah. I can guide you on how to do it. That should be enough for Freddy to latch onto you. Then, all you have to do is go to sleep. Since you've already been able to see us," she let one arm fall from her chest and gesture to the rest of her posse, "All you'll have to do is call for us when you enter your dream."

I lifted my back from the wall, standing straight while sliding my hands into the pockets of my jeans. Scanning my guests visually, I considered what I had been told, "How hard is it to astral travel?"

"Surprisingly easy, if you have an open mind," Emma grinned, pointing at her brain with a finger. "Does that mean you're ready?"

Inhaling sharply and then exhaling, I shrugged my shoulders, "I guess so."

"Good," the girl's attitude was back as she strolled toward and then past me, "Let's get you comfortable so we can do this quickly."

I watched as she walked through the doorway to my side, presumably making her way back to my bedroom. With a glance back at the others to see Damian lifting his brow in a seemingly impatient motion as he glared at me, I twisted in my spot and followed after her. Once there, Emma had taken a spot sitting on the foot of my bed, leaned back just enough that she could prop herself up with her hands resting atop the messy comforter. She smiled as I entered, patting the mattress with one hand as if to tell me to sit.

I did as she wanted, taking a seat in front of my pillows and facing her as my eyes lifted, observing the three boys take various positions around my room- Damian at the door, Todd on the floor, and Chris, the only one with his focus not on me, stood next to the window and was peeking through the raggedy curtain.

"Do I just sit here or...?" I inquired of the girl in front of me.

"Yeah, just get relaxed, but stay sitting up...it helps your energy focus," she explained.

I shifted slightly before putting my eyes obviously back on her.

"Close your eyes," she ordered.

I obeyed, instantly expecting to feel the brunt of her partner's baseball bat striking my temple or thinking that perhaps it was an excuse to distract me so they could steal from me...not that I had anything of value to anyone...

"A large part of this is being able to visualize things in your head," she went on, "You can do that, right?"

My eyes shot open. It seemed like such a stupid question, "Of course I can."

"Keep your eyes shut!" the girl growled.

I let my lids fall again, having had them open long enough to see that everyone had stayed the same. I took a deep breath and waited for further explanation.

"What you need to do is imagine your mind and your body separating," her voice had become low, soothing, "Think about everything you feel physically...hot, cold, the air, the fabric you're sitting on...and then think about what's in your head...all your thoughts about life, about what you want, all the things that you may be feeling emotionally right now...like sadness or fear... Think about those physical things as one, your body, and think about that stuff in your head as two, your mind. Now, take one and two...and pull them away from each other...make them entirely different things instead of parts of the same thing."

I thought about how much I hated life and all the questions I had about death. Then, I focused on where I was, how comfortable the bed felt, and the slight brushes of air hitting my skin from the air conditioning running in my apartment. I tried to imagine being a mind alone without feeling those physical things.

"Now that you've gotten them separated, pull your mind further...envision it leaving your body completely," Emma continued, "Your mind is just outside your body and it can see your room...where your body is sitting...can you picture what your room looks like?"

I heard the question, yet for some reason, I couldn't answer audibly. I could see in my head my mind and my body as separate and could feel my mind moving away from the bed. However, I could still feel what my body felt. It was strange...if this worked, I had expected to lose sensation of touch, yet it wasn't like that at all...it was as if I were now split in two. My body and my mind. My mind was moving; my body was staying still. In my head, I could see all four of the ghosts in the same places as before and could see myself as well.

I gave a small nod.

"Go even farther away. Try to float up to the ceiling, pass through it, and see the top of the building."

Once more, I did as I was told. My heart seemed to become worried as I pushed my mind out of the apartments, gazing down upon the old complex and seeing the parking lot and the roads around it also. I could even spot headlights of the cars moving in the night. My heart rate had definitely picked up, but I tried to ignore it.

"Keep going," the girl's voice had grown quieter. "Keep upward, seeing more and more of the world beneath you until you see that you're about to reach space...try to stop there and let me know."

My mind flew higher and higher, gradually seeing the rest of the neighborhood I lived in, then the whole city, then the state...the more I journeyed, the smaller everything below me was. It was like being in a plane and picturing everything below as some sort of architectural model. I found my mind...my spirit floated easier and faster the farther away from my body it went. Heart was still revving and it had gotten harder to breath. Emma must have noticed because she spoke again.

"Try to relax. You're in no danger," her voice was but a whisper.

I did my best to listen to her, but my chest was beginning to hurt...my spirit was still leaving even though I wasn't envisioning it or telling it to. I could feel my body panicking and I wanted to open my eyes. However, it was as if my brain was no longer connected to it, making me incapable of giving it the simple command to lift its lids and look around. I couldn't keep my spirit where it was...it kept moving away! Suddenly, viciously, I was able to nod twice...yet I couldn't speak...couldn't tell her I had lost control. What the fuck was going on?

"Alright, Mark, it's ok, listen!" she still sounded quiet, but her tone had heightened, "I need you to picture a light, a red light twisting in a long, crooked line. The light has a lot of black spots running down it. They're all uneven as well...there's no pattern to them. You're getting closer to this light...the black spots are getting bigger..."

As she spoke, the description she gave me came fully to life in my head. It had been odd, almost difficult to see everything in my home and the things after when I first started. Yet somehow, now, it was all going so fast and coming together so easily. The spiritual trek had now become a physical ache...a separation of my mind and body that I could no longer command. Without thinking about any of it, I simply watched as she dictated exactly what was happening to me.

"There's one black spot that you can almost touch...I know it's frightening...there are voices...screams...don't be afraid, Mark. Just go inside of it. Allow the darkness to envelop you. This is where Freddy is...this...is Hell."


	10. Chapter 10: Welcome to Hell

It was...cold. Wasn't hell supposed to be fire and brimstone? Then why was everything so quiet and why did chills keep rushing through up my spine? Wait...my body...if my mind was the only thing here, how did I even feel any of that in the first place? I knew the physical part of me was still sitting on my bed in that shitty apartment yet there was no denying the smell of death all around me.

 _Emma?_ my mind called out, receiving no answer.

The rush of that uncontrollable pull which had gotten me to this point was gone and I was having trouble feeling or seeing my body at all. I was stuck in this...void. I didn't even hear Emma's guiding voice any more. Now what? I tried to look around...it was strange seeing things without my eyes, but my mind was starting to pick up on the energies of this realm and it was more than imagining a scene in my head...it was all so real...

As I peered into the blackness, structures began forming. They looked like...rocks? and caves... Grey stones lining the shadows under a deep blue and empty sky. I found myself floating again, journeying slowly past the boulders and hidden crevices. The further I got, the more alive the place seemed to become. Instead of the limited hues, energies came into view of various colors. At first, they appeared similar to the spotted red line that I had used to get inside, but then, as I focused, they shifted into different shapes, gradually taking on what looked like actual forms...those lights...were creatures. Were they demons?

I didn't stop moving for fear that I, too, would cease being ephemeral and become human in Hell. Certainly, that would not be good. I'd probably became a toy or a meal for them. But as I traveled, it seemed that none of them were taking notice of me. Was I like a ghost here? I was really interested to know more so I kept studying the beasts as long as I could without halting. They weren't really monsterish in appearance either. They looked like animals, ranging in size from house cat to elephant or larger. Not necessarily like any animal I had seen before, but they weren't the nightmare fuel like humans depicted them to be. It was like I had been thrown into an alien world with a different evolutionary timeline.

I ended up flying quite a distance and overall, Hell didn't seem as frightening as it was made out to be...at least not until I ventured farther in. The part that I had seen most lacked any life other than the creatures I mentioned. It was barren, consisting of dirt, stone, and sky and it remained with the same cold, empty feeling I had first encountered. However, as I kept on, becoming aware that the air of the place was changing...a pit developed in my stomach, leaving me with an overwhelming sense of impending doom. It was then that I finally stopped moving. I didn't know why, but I was suddenly scared to continue.

 _Emma?_ I called again. Still nothing.

The cloud of me glanced back at the rubble as I pondered what to do. I looked back in front of me where the stone was dying out and in its place, a massive blackness was coming into view. It wasn't like the sky was getting darker or there were more things casting shadows... It was as if the entire place before me was a giant, 3D puzzle with pieces missing to show black paint behind them. I began floating deeper in, seeing the empty spaces become larger and more frequently, until there was nothing left except black.

My vision cut back again, but I couldn't see from where I had come. Just the darkness. It was another void like the one I had started in before I began seeing, yet this one was different. I _was_ looking; there was just nothing to see. Anxiety of unknown sources within increased tenfold, coupling with paranoia. I ceased my journey, spinning around and scanning the area. I was certain I was being watched... _Ok, calm down, Mark._ I tried to practice the deep-breathing and I must have done it right although I was unaware of what my body was doing, because I started to relax.

Focusing once more, energies were made apparent. They slowly took forms, but not of animal-like creatures. No, these looked...human...or at least mostly so. There was a group of them not too far in front of me and they were talking amongst themselves though I couldn't understand their words. It seemed to be two females and a male. Two had reptilian tails with scaly spots lining their almost naked bodies, spikes lining their backs and skulls while the third had furry legs, a bare torso, and a head that I could best describe as looking like a lion that had been mauled.

Gradually, I realized there were more around me, walking up and down the way in different directions. It was like I was in the middle of a mall and the customers were entering and exiting stores I couldn't see as the entities would randomly appear and disappear without any cause. It was much less populated than the outer region I had been in and also unlike out there, these beings were starting to take notice of me...and each time they did, they became even fiercer in their appearance. One of the women in the group I had spotted, turned her reptile-hybrid head my way and I saw a smirk reach her face as she stared at me.

She didn't do anything else except continue talking, but those she was with didn't seem interested. I somehow managed to tear myself from her gaze only to see that more eyes were upon me. An abrupt reminder of the fear in my core panged then, urging me to move once more...away from all of them. _Emma, where the fuck are you?_ I floated faster this time, hoping not to have drawn enough attention that any of the creatures would follow me, but I was wrong...

"Leekhat? Sa pongse ta?"

Out of nowhere, I had come face to face with one of the demons who stood a foot taller than me. His frame was exceedingly thin, as if he was nothing but bone and flattened ones at that. The points of his shoulders jutted out as high as his cheeks, with skeletal wings coming from his back to match. His throat was unrealistically long, as were his legs which ended in feet resembling that of a bird. His head was the only thing that appeared to have a normal amount of flesh on it and was the most human part of him. He had flowing, albeit thin black hair that fell down the length of his form and his eyes were a piercing red.

I didn't know what his words meant, but they hadn't seemed angry or threatening. They gave me the sense of...amusement? I did what I could to remain strong even though I could feel my essence wavering in his intimidating presence. Realizing that I couldn't figure out how to answer, the demon repeated the same words, in the same manner. Yet as I heard them, I also heard my own language inside my head...like two voices talking at once.

"Human? Who helped you?"

It had indeed been amusement. As uneasy as this place and the demons were making me, I felt somewhat relieved at his placid demeanor. "I...uh..." I stammered.

The creature cocked its head to the side and waited, not giving me any encouragement _or_ showing impatience at the time I was taking to answer.

"Um," I swallowed hard, "I was looking for Freddy Krueger."

The red orbs I had been gazing stayed emotionless, "You're going to have to be a little more specific, little guy," he blinked once.

More specific? How many Freddy Kruegers did they have around here? "He was human," I explained, "But was reborn as a demon."

"How did someone as ignorant as you find the capability of getting here?" the creature's tone had shifted...grown confused, not frustrated like the question alone seemed.

"I'm not-" I sighed, deciding not to argue. He was right, after all. I hadn't a clue, "What do you mean?"

Finally, a smile stretched across his face, "Your friends, whoever they are, should have given you better instruction before leaving you to your own devices."

My brow furrowed, "I...got disconnected."

"I see," his lips fell straight and he took a step forward. It was then that I realized he had no hands. Instead, he extended bony wings around me, using their various points to poke at me. It felt weird since I had no body. It was like having one of those pin-prick headaches except all over.

"What are-" I tried to ask, but was cut short as my breath was stolen when he rapidly removed all his spikes at once. I thought I would collapse, yet as soon as the air in my lungs left, I was breathing easy again. "What..."

"Don't worry. I was just understanding," he turned and began walking away from me, "Come on, then. Let's go find your Freddy."

I couldn't tear my gaze from him and my mind began floating again. _Understanding?_ Did he just read my mind or something? I kept after him for an amount of time that might have been long or short. It was impossible to tell. All I knew was that after a while, I watched him vanish in front of me. I hesitated, but when I took another step, I was no longer in the blackness and I could see my new friend again. He had taken me to what I guessed was another layer of Hell? This place looked...very much like Earth...except all the buildings and nature were distorted and a red film was over everything...as if you were looking through red glass the entire time.

"You know," the creature spoke, "This demon you're seeking feeds on your kind. Strange you should go looking for him like this. I wonder what your motive is?"

"I'm sorry," I voiced my confusion, "I thought you read my mind just now."

My escort laughed, "No. You see, in our culture, we're not fond of using names. Most have them; we just don't share them. Typically we recognize each other by essence. Since you are obviously incapable of relaying this information, I simply reached in and felt it myself while you were thinking about him."

"Oh," I mumbled, noticing that we had walked into a more disturbing version of Springwood. "Well...that's kind of the point. I want Freddy to destroy me."

The demon halted, twisting himself to see me, an eyebrow raised, "Destroy? You wish more than death upon yourself? I know the human mind can be horribly crippled. Many want their lives to end...but wanting your existence to end...is odd."

As I stared at him, his eyes became soft...then intent while his lips curled into a half-grin and he added, "You don't really want this. You want something better...for your current struggle to end, but you don't actually want to cease being. Humans so enjoy doing the convenient thing for the sake of convenience, even when a little more work would yield a much more positive result."

What was the deal here? First, I was lectured by a judge, then a therapist, then goddamn ghosts, and now by a fucking demon? A LITTLE more work? Clearly this thing had no idea what human life could be like "Can you show me to Freddy or can't you?" I asked, the first bit of anger since my going to Hell came out.

My escort stopped smiling, "I can. He's not too far now," the demon's shining eyes rolled in his head, looking around us, "And I understand now who Freddy is. Especially with your inconsistent knowledge of this realm, I feel that this wasn't your decision. To retrieve Freddy, that is. Which strengthens my point that this is not what you want. I won't stop you. It's not within me to truly care what happens to you or your world or whoever sent you. However, if _you_ care, you'll think more thoroughly about your actions...until there is no doubt in your convictions."

I paused, utterly confused. This entire experience was not what I expected at all. _Hell is just the name of the realm where demons live. Just think of demons more like...just spirits that live there like humans live here,_ Damian's and Emma's voices repeated in my head. Did they mean the demons weren't inherently good or evil, like humans weren't? or they just had a varying morale They were just different creatures, living on a different plane. Well, Freddy was definitely one of the evil ones and this guy didn't seem concerned with him...but then he seemed to feel the need to offer me advice. Just how old was too feel so wise? Remaining neutral, but helpful? With those thoughts, I was questioning myself once more. What if I was making the wrong choice?

"I don't even know how to get out of here," I mumbled.

"I know you feel very isolated from everything you know right now," the demon's calm stoicism was soothing at that moment. "But all you have to do, is remember. Remember how you got here and remember where you're from...and then imagine your mind getting slung-shot in reverse, back to your body."

"Sounds painful," I half-chuckled, my vision downward.

"A little, I am told," the creature remained unchanged.

I lifted myself, gazing into his blood spheres. Maybe this was a bad idea. What if they couldn't control Krueger and he ended up killing more kids? I certainly didn't want other people to get hurt because of me and my selfish, indecisive desires. I should just go home before...

"How sweet. Fresh meat!" a raspy voice sounded loudly from the other side of my friendly demon companion.

The creature I had been walking with turned its eyes apathetically toward the source as my own darted frantically to see who the maniacal voice belonged to. There, perhaps twenty feet from us was a human figure with insanely burnt skin. He wore a tattered red and green striped sweater, dirty brown pants, and a filthy fedora to match. He stood with one arm, bent at the elbow, out to his side. On its hand was a glove, lined with blades, exactly like the one of the Springwood Slasher.

It looked like...I was too late to change my mind...


	11. Chapter 11: Fatal Mistake

"Mark? Mark!"

I suddenly felt Emma's hands shaking my arms along with a searing pain in my head as my eyes shot open. Falling forward from my seated position, I placed my palms on the bed in front of me while panting heavily. _Please tell me I'm just crazy. Please tell me I'm just crazy,_ the plea kept repeating in my head. I looked up to see that the four ghosts were still lounging about my bedroom.

"Ya do it?" Todd asked excitedly while his near-twin showed the same enthusiasm.

My brow furrowed glancing from the youngest of the kids to Damian, still at the door, with his baseball bat resting across his shoulders and an expression of patient aggression. Emma was the only one who displayed any manner of concern, her big eyes and parted lips silently prompting me to explain what had happened. Yet I was having trouble articulating. My breath was coming back to me and the discomfort in my brain had all but faded. Somehow still, the events left me shocked as I tried to find words.

"I-um..." I stammered, but as I shifted to sit back again, I felt a sting on my chest. My focus went to my tshirt where there were tears in the fabric. Beneath them, large gashes...ones made by Freddy Krueger himself.

"So you did find him," Emma breathed, staring at my wound.

Fingers thumbing the torn clothes and the bloody cuts of flesh, I recalled the events prior to my return. The creature that had led my way had casually stepped to the side when the dream demon placed his sights on me. It didn't seem that he was too eager to be part of the battle yet at the same time, gave no appearance that he was frightened to be around either. It was as if he allowed every party to do what they wished regardless of any sense of right and wrong he might have himself...and I _had_ told him my goal. He stood by, observing as Freddy leapt toward me at an unsettling quick pace. Once upon me, he grabbed hold of me and pulled me close to his scarred face and clicked his knives beside my ear.

"Mm..." he took in a large breath through his nose as if taking in the scent, "It's been far too long since my last meal...and you smell tasty," his mouth grew to an evil grin, exposing rotted teeth, "Humans aren't too common here, are they, Spike?"

Krueger had directed his question to the one that had guided me with a tilt of his head in the creature's direction. Spike? Somehow I doubted that was his real name. Probably just a joke to Freddy. Nonetheless, 'Spike' looked just as unamused as he had been the entire time, yet he kept watching even so. Part of me wanted to ask for his help in my indecisiveness and the other part just wanted to wait for Krueger to kill me there so I didn't bring him back to the human world.

"So then, what _are_ you doing here, hm?" the dream demon purred, tightening his hold on me.

If it hadn't been for the terror I was feeling, I'd probably have answered with _something,_ but as it was, I hadn't been collected enough to do anything other than stare back helplessly and it seemed that Freddy wasn't as patient as Spike... He almost instantly grew furious that I hadn't replied and reared his claw behind him before plummeting it into my core. It hurt, but not as much as anticipated. Jovial laughter sounded directly after, and both Freddy and I jarred our attention to the other demon, who actually looked more creepy laughing like that.

"What's so funny, McRib?" Krueger growled viciously.

The chuckling ceased, but a smile stayed on the neutral creature's face, "You know you're not strong enough for that. Maybe you were once, but reading a being's soul takes a lot more than what you are at present."

Freddy didn't appreciate Spike's nonchalant behavior at all and he certainly didn't seem pleased with knowing he wasn't at full power. Even so, the reminder was all he needed to change the subject from the reason for my presence to how he could use it to benefit himself. All in all, I had pictured Freddy to be extremely intelligent and collected as most serial killers tend to be. However, instead, he seemed to lack a certain amount of...focus? It was almost like he was ADD. Not dumb, just easily distracted.

"You're right," he hummed. "Unfortunate..." then his eyes darted back to me, "Yet so fortunate at the same time. Now, you'll help me get what I need, wont you, buddy?" he smirked, deep red eyes somehow darker than Spike's boring into me.

And that was when he reared his weapon backward again and when it fell inside me this time, the pain was incredible...burning... I didn't know what the difference was, but I cried out, finding myself wishing for home. Just as I had been told, my spirit was thrown back into my body and I had come to, sitting on the bed like I had never left in the first place.

I began shaking my head violently, "No. No no no, I can't do this!"

"Well, it's a bit late for that now, isn't it?" Damian let his bat to his side and strolled forward.

"No, I-"

"He's attached to you. As soon as you dream, he'll be here and we can get him," the girl beside me interrupted.

I kept shaking my head, mouth open like an idiot. No, I couldn't take the chance. If they couldn't control him...I'll have set an impossibly powerful killer on the loose again! If I dreamt... That means I couldn't dream. How was I supposed to keep that from happening though? As it was, I already slept most of the time so... I stopped moving and stared blankly in front of me. The only thing I could do was...

With the abrupt conclusion, I threw my legs off the side of the mattress and jumped to my feet. I stormed past Damian, catching his scowl out of the corner of my eye. I quickly made my way to the living room and walked erratically around the sofa and the table in front of it. I heard Emma ask something and realized that the ghosts had followed me, but I didn't pay them any heed as I continued my search. Where the fuck did they... There it was. I grabbed the box-cutter that had been haphazardly discarded after the ghost girl's little show earlier. Immediately, I clicked it out two notches so a section of the blade showed.

"Mark, what the fuck are you doing?" the goth leader put one hand on her hip and the other lifted to her chin and halfway covered her mouth though I couldn't tell if it was in contemplation or out of worry.

"I've already fucked up enough! I have to stop this now, before anything bad happens," I responded determinedly through the moisture welling in my eyes as I placed the blade on the bottom of my wrist.

"Don't worry, Ems," Damian scoffed, "He won't do it."

"SHUTTUP!" I yelled at him, tears starting to roll down my cheeks.

The boy shrugged his shoulders as he patiently waited for me to give up. No...no, this was what I wanted...it was... More importantly, it needed to be done. I couldn't let other people...but I couldn't do this. NO! Shuttup, I can do this...just...I can just. Just do it quickly! Don't think about it! Just...

"See? I told you," Damian's voice came again as I stood there awkwardly staring at the clean blade against my skin.

"You're fucking wrong," I whispered. "You don't know me...you don't..."

And by some grace, I mustered the courage to plunge the blade into my wrist, deeper than any cut I had ever made. At first, I hissed through my teeth, trying not to scream as I forced the razor further down, but when I felt it begin jutting off to the side and hit something tougher than the rest of the flesh, my efforts for quiet stopped and I let out a yell as I yanked the weapon up the length of my arm in a manner similar to how Emma had earlier that evening.

As the blade journeyed, the cut gradually became more shallow until the box-cutter fell out of my arm completely. My cry also grew softer and my knees buckled under the intensity of the attack. On the floor, I stared at the blood pouring from my wound, crawling up out of me and over the tissue that I had destroyed. The pain was extraordinary. It was nearly unbearable to begin, yet now that I had done it...I was pleased. The hurt was comforting. My vision seemed to tunnel then as my eyes darted from the crimson drenching my pants, to the blade that had fallen beside me.

Everything I knew said I should do both arms, not simply the one. Surely if I had made it through the first, I could do it again. My uninjured arm reached out for the box-cutter; the small movement exciting the pain I had inflicted upon myself while also heightening the feeling of light-headedness. However, just as my hand found the orange handle of the utility blade, a foot stepped on it.

"Mark, you fucking idiot!"

My head slowly lifted, laying sights on Emma who stood above me, piece of shit phone in hand, "The hell are you-" I tried to ask, but a sudden wave of nausea cut me off.

Absentmindedly, I fought the ghost foot for grip of the weapon. Why were dead people so strong? Ignoring the burning in my gashed arm, I put it forward as well to help retrieve the blade, somehow managing to lift her boot, causing her to trip and fall as she lost balance of herself. Even so, I didn't have time to actually get the razor before two sets of hands were on either arm, pulling me back. It was Chris and Todd.

"Stop! Leave me alone!" I cried, feeling I would vomit at any moment.

Everything appeared surreal. My hearing was muffled as if my ears were filled with the sound of the blood in my system rushing. My head flopped weakly back and forth, catching sight of the boys at my sides, then of Emma, phone hanging idly at her side, the screen illuminated with the numbers 9-1-1 along with the word 'Dialing.' Then, my gaze found Damian, face straight; no more joking around, no more cockiness. Instead, he lifted the baseball bat from his side, clutching its base with both hands, before throwing it back and swinging it full-force into my forehead.

My vision went completely black for a moment, coming back just long enough to realized I'd been dropped to the floor and all four of the gothic ghost kids were standing in front of me, staring downward. I didn't have the chance to figure out their expressions before I once again fell into blackness...

I remained unconscious until there was a loud beating on my apartment door and my eyelids fought to open themselves. They fluttered long enough for me to see the door cave in, two police officers bursting through and scanning the immediate area before a medic rushed to my side and knelt. I could feel the burning, stinging pains in my wrist and the wetness of my blood, then all was dark once more.

"Can you hear me? Sir? Stay with me. Do you know where you are?"

Even though the voice was speaking loudly, it sounded quiet, warbled by the sound of medical machinery, chattering staff, and the pounding ache in my head. My vision was fading in and out. I kept catching glimpses of white, moving walls all around me. No. I was the one moving...laying on a gurney...strapped to it? or was I just that weak? There were two nurses on either side of me, studying an IV bag and where it was attached to the underside of my elbow. A third man, dressed in blue scrubs, was staring at me. His mouth was moving, but I only heard some of what was said.

"Do you know who you are? What is your name?"

I felt my lips quivering, mumbling, yet nothing coherent came out before blackness overtook. This time when I awoke, everything was motionless and I was alone. Laying on the same tiny hospital bed, I saw that I was situated in the middle of a sterile room. All the lights were off except for one huge beam above me, aimed downward. Fighting to turn my head to the side and look away from the brightness, I choked out a call.

"Hello?"

My voice was hardly even a whisper. Suddenly, in the the growing shadows around me, I saw movement. I tried to peer harder and to shift my body, but I was, in fact, tied down. Nonetheless, I felt too drained underneath them to actually make any progress. Where were the doctors? Why was I left here? I opened my mouth, forcing myself to speak more. However, I was shushed.

"Sh-sh-shh..." a figure stepped out of the darkness surrounding me, a finger- no, a knife, lifted in front of his lips.

"Fr-Freddy?" I gasped, my head spinning at the expended effort.

"Aw, you had me worried there for a minute, Mark," the demon cooed sarcastically. "Though I do suppose I owe you...even if your intention was to have me tortured."

No. I had to...I had to wake up...

"Doctor? Pressure is dropping."

My eyes were fighting open again and I was once more surrounded by hospital staff.

"Sir? Sir, we need you to try and relax. You're safe, but you need to try and calm down," it was the same doctor from before, wearing a mask now. Was I in surgery?

"N-no," I mumbled.

"Nurse, give him another cc of ketamine," his attention turned to one of the women beside him and then back to me as he said, "Calm down, you're going to be ok."

Blackness returned...

What had I done?

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Ketamine is an anesthetic commonly used for bringing about anesthesia, coupled with acute memory loss during the time the patient is unconscious. 'CC' is medical jargon, basically meaning a milliliter.**


	12. Chapter 12: The Necessary Work

"How are you feeling today, Mark?" the woman smiled as I entered.

A small nod of the head was my only answer as I stood awkwardly at the door after it closed behind me.

"Why don't you sit down? Make yourself comfortable," she gestured to a chair sitting on my side of her desk.

"No, thank you," my voice was barely audible, choking the words out over my sore throat.

The last four days had been absolute Hell...or...well, they had been bad. After my experiences the day I had traveled to Springwood, I was entirely confused on if using Hell to mean something terrible was accurate or not. Likewise, I had wondered if 'heaven' was a good thing. Nonetheless, after I had woken up from surgery, I had been kept in the hospital under suicide watch which basically meant there was a nurse in my room at all hours just sitting and watching me. At least they would speak to me if I talked to them first. After two days, they transferred me to the psych ward, saying my wound could be checked on once a day from that point on.

Being brought into the ward meant stripping in front of staff to make sure I hadn't snuck in any contraband. You know, the obvious things like knives and then those items that were less so like pens. I had been through the procedure before so it wasn't new though it was still annoying. I didn't particularly like being naked in front of random strangers. Did anyone really? But it was painless and over quickly. I had been provided with a pair of stringless jogging pants, a plain white tshirt, and a sweatshirt. It wasn't a stand-alone ward or institute, but rather another wing of the hospital I had already been at so at least I didn't have to suffer an ambulance ride to the place.

It had been two more days here. Today being the morning of the fifth day altogether and I was having my first visit with the psychiatrist since back in recovery before I was admitted to the psych clinic. She seemed nice, I guess, but I had come to find that most therapists, psychologists, and the like seemed that way. Surely it was part of their job, so it was difficult to tell which ones were actually sincere until you started spending a lot of time with them...like months of weekly visits like I had been ordered to in the past. Anyhow, it wasn't being in the hospital that had been so awful...it had been the fact that since awakening, I had been too afraid to go back to sleep so I'd been doing everything to keep myself awake which was especially challenging during the enforced resting hours at the ward where nobody was allowed to be out of their room or allowed to make noise within them.

"Have you been able to get any sleep?" the woman continued, her expression weakening.

I didn't answer.

"I see..." she looked down at the clipboard in her hand, "I'm told you haven't been eating either. What's on your mind?"

Fuck. I had honestly forgotten that the people in these places who handed out the lunch trays made notes of what was missing from your plate when they were returned, "Just not hungry," I lied. In reality, I was crazy hungry, no pun intended. It was just harder to sleep when you had to deal with hunger pains in your stomach.

"Mark, I really wish you would sit down," she said again in a soft, pleading tone. "It would make me more comfortable," she added.

It may have been to get me to relax, but I also had learned that people in her position often used subtle things like that to judge a person's true mindset. For example, if I sat because she had said it would make her feel better, she'd think I was considerate even through my depression, meaning that not only was I kind, but I may not have given up completely yet.

I sat.

"Thank you," she smiled. "Now, can you tell me what is troubling you?"

"I already told you," I muttered.

There was a pause.

"Yes, when I talked to you after you got out of surgery, you were quite distressed. Something about...a demon? Can you tell me more about him?" she asked softly.

I shrugged my shoulders. I remembered how I had acted by being forced to see her in the first place. It was stupid. I had actually woken up screaming about Freddy Krueger and how he was going to kill people if I didn't die first. Staff had come in, threatening to hold me down and give me more medicine to put me out if I didn't relax. Knowing already that I shouldn't go to sleep just in case he hadn't made it through, I had then started bitching that they needed to let me go home; that they had no right to keep me even though I knew the law said otherwise.

"I was just upset. There's no demon," I looked her dead in the eye for the first time.

Her look relayed that she didn't buy my denial, "Mark, you said the name 'Freddy Krueger.' Do you remember that?"

She stared back at me, looking for any sort of confirmation, but I gave her nothing, keeping my face entirely emotionless.

"That is quite an infamous name. His legend has become popular once more very recently too. I'm told there was a television show doing research on him to broadcast the stories again," the doctor stated plainly.

I latched onto the small facts, creating a plausible excuse, "Yeah, it's called _Mysterious Murderers_. I guess it freaked me out more than I thought. I must have had a nightmare or something."

"Hm, okay," she still wasn't accepting it. "I was able to get a hold of your records from the information you gave at check-in. Have you been going to your DAA meetings?"

"Yes," my voice was weak, showing the lie clearly this time. "I mean, I did miss last week, but I have been going. I haven't relapsed."

"I know, Mark. There weren't any drugs in your system," she pointed.

"Then why'd you ask?" I growled, knowing she was just pointing out my past problems to get me to talk, which made me angry.

"Just trying to understand why you tried to kill yourself," the words were blunt.

"I-" I cut myself off, realizing I was about to spurt more about Freddy and the ghosts again. "I was depressed before the drugs. They didn't make me sad, they just gave me other problems to deal with on top of it."

The woman looked down to write something on the papers in her lap.

"Look, if I don't get out of here soon, I'm going to lose my job. That means I'll lose my apartment and I don't have anywhere else to go, okay?" I continued with the same agitated tone.

"Your boss was contacted when the EMT brought you to the emergency room. There were no others listed on your records. He has assured us he will work with re-employing you once you are released," her eyes lifted to see me, "You're very lucky to have someone who is willing to do that. He's under no legal obliga-"

"Well, when you start to have as many employees leaving the shithole business he has, you have to start looking to keep the idiots who will actually stay," I interrupted her, my voice somehow gaining strength from my fury.

The psychiatrist stared blankly at me, pen idly hanging in the hand on top of the clipboard. Shit. I wasn't doing myself any favors by being a jerk.

"Sorry, I'm just..." I turned my head to the side so I wasn't gazing directly at her when I felt tears forming in my eyes. "I just don't know what to do anymore," I whispered truthfully as I raised a hand to clear my vision that had begun to cloud with the moisture.

"You've been through a lot...and I can't pretend to know your exact struggle," her voice was soft, attention fully on me, "However, I can tell you from my experience in this field that nobody who has just sat back and waited for things to change, or who have continually employed negative, hurtful tactics to reach a better place, have actually gotten anywhere."

I inhaled sharply, the breath turning into a sniffle causing me to wipe my eyes once more. I tried to look over at her, but couldn't gather enough will power to turn my head back. So instead, I stayed twisted to face the wall, with vision cut to the corner so I could study her face as she spoke.

"Life is work, Mark, and it's pain. I'm not going to tell you that everything is going to be ok; that you're going to get better and never feel this way again. It would be a blatant lie for me to do so and you don't need that."

I managed to tear my gaze to her when she said that, cocking my head to the side as I looked straight at her.

"What you need is honesty. And honestly...even if you work to get past this state, you'll feel bad again. But then you'll work and feel better and yes, then the bad days will come once more. However, I can truthfully tell you that every time you push through to find those good days again...the bad ones won't sting so much and they'll come less and less. They'll still come...but you won't find yourself contemplating suicide every waking hour of your life as you will begin to realize this is the cycle of existence. Good, bad, good, bad, and so on..."

My eyes squinted as I actually took in what she was trying to tell me.

"What I'm trying to say, is not only should you look for the good, but you should _work_ to make it happen and then when you get depressed, when things aren't going your way, work harder...and as you collect more and more pleasant times, _remember_ them during the dark times."

The tears disappeared as I I stared at her, not saying anything. I was sure I had heard this before...at least mostly. Not certain anyone had ever told that my mood problem would never get completely better. In fact, I remember being told the depression was rooted in PTSD which was a temporary disorder if you did what was needed to get past the trauma. Anyhow, even pretty much having been told the same things before...I heard it this time...really heard it...and I wasn't sure why. It was like...the words finally clicked.

As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. I had blamed everyone including fate or some cosmic force, for everything I had to deal with. At many times, I hurled insults, calling myself pathetic for what I was going through as I figured I had to be some sorry creature to have been given such a shitty life...that I deserved everything that happened to me. And I don't know, maybe I was a piece of shit, but what I did know was that that was going to change. I wasn't any less deserving than all these other assholes and you know what? I WANT more. I shouldn't have to die to make the suffering end, I should instead end the suffering.

Fine. I would give it a try. To test my newfound determination, I would start by destroying Freddy. If he had gotten out there, he'd no doubt be causing a LOT of suffering and since he was here by my doing...I would get rid of him...fix my mistake instead of bitching about it and running from it. Yeah...if I could do this...maybe there was hope for me yet.

"Mark?" the doctor poked and I realized a smile had crept onto my face.

"I'll give it a try," I said out loud.

"Give what a try?" she asked, confused, yet seemingly pleased that something had changed.

"The work," my grin grew, drawing one from the woman on the other side of the desk.

"I'm glad to hear it," she beamed, "Maybe try with eating some lunch when it arrives? and taking a nap?"

I nodded.

"Good. I'll make sure to give the nurses a note telling them you're allowed to go to bed after lunch."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
*DAA\- Drug Addicts Anonymous  
*PTSD\- Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (known largely for rape victims and soldiers to be diagnosed with, but several other traumatic events can trigger the disorder including non-sexual abuse, medical trauma, and witnessing violent crime) 


	13. Chapter 13: Diving In

"Hey, Mark," the guy greeted casually, having suddenly zoomed up to my side and then slowed to match my pace.

"Hey," I answered absentmindedly.

"So how's her highness today?" he chuckled, referring to the psychiatrist, Dr. Stokes.

I shrugged my shoulders. My heart wasn't in the conversation for several reasons, but the greatest was the fact that directly after lunch...I might be facing the dream demon again and I had no idea what to expect or do. The man walking with me was pretty young, maybe twenty. That made me about a decade older. He was mid-height, same as me, but with a light brown complexion and dark eyes. He was also pretty thin like I was. He was exceedingly friendly yet everything about it seemed sincere. We had met my first day here when he saw me just sitting at a table and poking at the food on my plate. He had grabbed his own tray from the table where he'd been chatting with two female patients and made his way to where I was.

Even though I was clearly alone, he had asked if the seat was claimed before taking the one in front of me. I didn't really answer. I may have shrugged, but couldn't remember. He sat anyway and told me his name was Devin. He was a talkative son of a bitch and had carried the entirety of the dialogue. In fact, I don't recall having said anything to him during it at all. Still, he kept at it. He'd occasionally asked questions and when he received no reply, would answer them himself. For example, at one point, he inquired as to why I was in the hospital, and then turned around and said, "Yeah, I know it's hard to believe, but I actually have a pretty bad problem with my temper. Haha. I feel like I'm better than I used to be though."

According to Devin, he had a chemical imbalance similar to depression except instead of making him saddened, he was easily agitated. And he was right, seeing him act the way he did these past couple of days, it didn't seem truthful, especially with how much he appeared to enjoy spending time with others. Yet apparently, what had brought him in was a fight with his sister's boyfriend. Well...maybe fight was the wrong word. Basically, he was staying with the two of them as he hadn't been able to maintain a place of his own. Devin was having 'an off day' or at least that's how he had described it.

After a day of job-hunting, he came into the kitchen where his sister was and grabbed a beer. She had made a comment about how he really should cut down the drinking to help him stay level. Devin had complained that it was only one beer; she had said it always starts with just one; and when he bitched back, she just dropped it. However, her boyfriend came home and when he heard about the spat, he approached Devin saying he didn't want anymore alcohol in his home. "I remember saying something to the effect of how I wasn't an irresponsible drinker, but after that, I blacked out," Devin had told me. "The next thing I knew, I was holding the guy against the wall and his face was bleeding...I think I may have broken his nose."

He had kept a chipper attitude through the whole story, making it a bit unbelievable or at least like it didn't bother him even though it had only happened a few days prior to my visit to Springwood. Thinking on it later, I wondered if his cheeriness was a defense-mechanism and he did feel badly for what happened...that he was just good at remaining positive. At any rate, his sister had called the cops and, having his disorder documented, he was sent to the ward for medication adjustment after a night in lockup.

"It looks like I may be getting out tomorrow," Devin spoke again once we had reached the activity room in silence.

"Oh?" I finally said, "You have a court date set?"

"Nah, Sheila phoned me and said Derrick wasn't going to press charges," he explained, "So it looks like I'll be a free man. Haha!"

I stopped walking and looked over at him, "They're not going to let you back there though, are they?"

The man's smile faded momentarily, but was back before he replied, "Eh. I'll find somewhere else to go. I've lived on the streets a lot so I'm pretty resourceful."

I knew the guy had problems. Breaking someone's nose because they didn't want you drinking in their house when you weren't even paying rent was certainly uncalled for. Nonetheless, I wanted to help him out. If what the doctor had said was true, then I should be able to keep my place. I didn't like the idea of him being homeless when he had come off as nothing except kind. But then my paranoia kicked back in. Maybe he was really adept at positivity because it was how he survived. People like me and his sister felt badly for such a nice guy having trouble so we helped him out.

"Fuck yeah!" Devin's abrupt cheer shook me from scrutinizing his character, "Food's here early."

My gaze followed his to where he was watching two orderlies, accompanied by a nurse, rolling in the covered shelves that carried our lunch trays. After them, I saw the rest of the patients in the ward coming in and lounging about in the common area- some at tables, some on the couches- to wait for their name to be called. It was another part of the procedure to keep an eye on everyone. Nobody could technically be forced to take their lunch, but if you didn't show to get it, the absence was recorded on your chart as you not committing to treatment and nurses were sent to find what you were up to instead.

I strolled away from Devin and found a table while he hovered around the staff members, and talked to them while waiting. I noticed that they didn't really say much back to him, but the female orderly and the male nurse did keep grinning. It wasn't long before my name was called and I retrieved my food and then not long after, Devin was given his and he joined me. The meal, consisting of green beans, roast, sweet tea, and a slice of yellow cake, was less appetizing than it sounded. Nonetheless, I wolfed down most of it while my fellow inmate chatted between bites.

"Christ, Mark, maybe next time you won't starve yourself!" the man next to me laughed.

I swallowed the chunk of dessert in my mouth, "Yeah, maybe..." I trailed, realizing that my food was almost gone and I was meant to try and sleep next.

"So are you actually going to do it?" Devin's voice sounded suddenly serious, throwing me off guard.

"What?" my head shot up to furrow my brow at him.

"Are you actually going to sleep?" he clarified with a small chuckle though he still seemed solemn.

"Oh...I, uh...yeah I'm gonna try..." my head hung again.

There was a short pause.

"Why didn't you want to sleep anyway?" the man cut himself a bite of cake with his plastic fork.

Not wanting to sound like a nutcase, yet eager for any advice before going into battle, I formulated a half-truthful answer, "I feel like there's someone out to get me...someone specific, someone I know, I mean," I added quickly, "Not just some random person out there, you know?"

"Well, unless they work here, they'll be hard-pressed to get to you while you're a admitted," Devin stated logically, without missing a beat.

"No, they don't...work here..." I wasn't sure how to go about this, "They're not exactly...real? I guess...I mean, they were, but..."

"Ohhh, I see," the man hummed understandingly, causing me to look back up, "You got a ghost after you, Mark?"

Oh wow...uh ok, maybe this was going to be easier than I thought, "Yeah...I see him in my dreams...he used to be, um...violent when he was alive."

"Family?" Devin inquired.

I shook my head.

"Hm...does he want something from you?" the inquisition continued.

"I don't know," I confessed.

"Well, a good place to start is figuring that out," Devin smiled again.

"Yeah, I guess, but what if he tries to hurt me? or someone else?" I took the chance at revealing a little more, somewhat comforted by Devin's non-judgmental behavior.

"Well, _they_ ," he jutted a finger back over his shoulder, "Would say ghosts can't hurt you. That they're there for you to learn something or some bullshit. But, if you believe in ghosts, you probably believe in ghost-hunters and you know, there's a lot of those guys who've gotten attacked by ghosts or demons or whatever."

"I do believe in that stuff," I shrugged with an awkward smirk, "So how would I go about fighting a ghost or demon then? In my dreams, I mean."

"Hm...I'm not sure," Devin scrunched his face in thought.

Gee, thanks.

"However," he kept on, re-igniting my hope, "I'd try manipulating your dreams to help you if he tries attacking."

I stared at the man in front of me, contemplating his suggestion while watching him shove two more forkfuls of cake into his mouth. I had honestly never done something like that before. I had heard that it was possible though and perhaps with my newfound experience in communicating with the dead and with astral travel, I could actually accomplish it. Maggie had shared with me that it was how Krueger had been beaten before was by kids being able to control their dreams while finding a way to bring him out of that realm to kill him or bury his remains and other shit like that. A new thought struck then. Maggie was going to be pissed at me.

"Woah there. Looks like you got company, bro," Devin laughed, eyeing something behind me.

I twisted in my seat to look back at the door and saw that Dr. Stokes had poked her head into the activity room and was heading our way. "Great," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

"Hey, no worries. Just remember what I said: control your dreaming and figure out what he wants. Ya gotta start somewhere," my consultant beamed genuinely as he rose from his seat and then lifted his tray, "I'll give you guys some privacy then," he added sarcastically as he left.

I sighed loudly at the same moment that the psychiatrist appeared beside me, "It's good to see you managed to eat some. Now how about that nap?"

A weak smile found, but quickly left my face, "Yeah, alright," I said, lifting myself and my tray at the same time and beginning on my way before I was trapped into any further conversation with the doctor.

"Oh and Mark?" she said just as I started to leave. I turned around hesitantly to face her and she took two steps forward to be close to me, "It's good to make friends, but please focus on your own problems before you invite any more in, hm?"

I squinted at her. She had to be talking about Devin. "Right, of course," I nodded, not really caring what she had to say about the company I kept. She returned the gesture and I immediately continued on my way.

Once I was out of the communal areas and in my bedroom, I stood and stared at the mattress with its white sheets neatly folded on top even though I had left them in a mess that morning. I glanced back toward the door as footstep passed. I was tired and now comfortable with a full belly, but I wondered if I'd be able to relax with the noise outside my room. Another policy in the ward was that doors were required to remain open at all times whilst there were patients alone inside of them. Even showering meant having a nurse nearby to keep an eye and ear out though thankfully, they didn't have to actually watch you bathe. Exhaling strongly, I crawled atop the bed and pulled the sheets over me. Here goes nothing.

Five, ten, then twenty minutes passed and I had done nothing but toss around beneath the covers. I groaned. _Come on, Mark, let's just get this over with._ I kept getting distracted by random noises from the hallway including laughter and indistinct voices. At the thirty minute mark, a crash and then a yell sounded...a man screaming something about a faggot needing to get his hands off of him. It was followed by footsteps, more screaming, and then gradually all the sound tapered off. I guess whoever it was got sedated. Knowing about Devin's anger issue, I wondered at first if it was him though the voice sounded different.

Fifty minutes. Yup, this wasn't going to work. Hey, at least I tried? That should look good on my chart if nothing else. I pushed myself up into a seated position before groaning again and taking a deep breath. Then I threw my feet onto the floor, my body following, and strolled out of the room. It was eerily quiet and it looked like the sun had gone down. Maybe more time had passed than I thought...or at least that was my assumption at first...until I made it down the corridor to the nurses' station.

There was nobody around. I peered over the desk, seeing that everything was empty behind. Wow, someone must have done fucked up to get all of the staff's attention at once. I put my sights on the activity room and made my way in...but it, too, was void of life though everything else was normal. Ok, weird. I walked back out to the hall, turning the corner of the nurses' station to the first bedroom on that wall. I looked at the name tag, double checking to make sure it was Devin's room. Upon seeing the name, I reached out and knocked on the open door.

"Devin? You up?"

"Christ, Mark, you scared me. I was just trying to sleep," his voice answered from inside.

My heart began to relax, "Good," I entered the room, flicking on the light switch as I did, "Do you know where everyone's at?" My vision fell upon his bed, the lump of his body hidden under covers pulled all the way over his head. "Devin?" I called again when he didn't move or speak.

Extending an arm, I laid its hand on his covered shoulder and pulled at him, his body suddenly jumping in response to my touch, turning to face me, yet it wasn't him that I saw.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" maniacal laughter greeted me as Freddy's form flew in my direction, causing me to backpedal and trip, falling ass first onto the floor.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: * Lockup\- slang for jail or a temporary stay in jail**


	14. Chapter 14: We're All Insane

I fell victim to the dream demon's hold, immediately feeling stupid for not realizing it had been a trap. He held tightly to the top of my shirt, having forced me against the wall and lifted me off the ground. Reaching out with both of mine, I grabbed onto the hand that was holding me up. I tried to lift it from my chest and push him away, even through imagining I had greater strength than I did, but all my effort was futile.

"Aw, there you are," Freddy purred through an evil grin, "Why do I get the feeling you've been avoiding me?"

"Let me go, asshole!" I growled.

He cocked his head, smile fading, "Asshole, huh?"

The demon laughed again, simultaneously turning and throwing my body to the side. I anticipated sliding across the smooth hospital floor, but instead was met with metal grates poking into my skin as my hands flew out, palms down, to catch me from completely banging against the ground. My eyes darted around, taking in the fact that we were back in the factory I had explored after assuming it was where Krueger had worked during his life. _Dammit, Mark!_ I growled at myself before quickly finding my feet.

Freddy chuckled as he watched me stand again and face him instead of running, "Oh, so little Mark has finally grown a pair... And what is it you plan on doing with this new courage of yours?"

I stared back at him, contemplating what to do or say. I decided not to waste my time with words and instead focused my attention on trying to make a flaming sword appear in my hand...which I found was not so easy. Was it because he was in control of the dream? No, even if he was, it was still _my_ dream and according to Maggie, others had been able to manipulate their dreams to fight Freddy. I must have taken too long to do something because he started talking again.

"And here I thought you'd finally decided what you want," the demon smirked, "Well, maybe I should make your mind up for yo-"

"Quit talking as if you know me!" I barked, the frustration of not being in control really starting to wear on me.

Freddy's playful attitude quickly changed to one of fury. He clearly did not appreciate being interrupted, "Oh I do know you, Mark. I know how those unappreciative slimes beat and starved you; how you were finally put in foster care to receive the same cruel treatment from cunts who just looked after you for the money; how after you found cutting wasn't enough to feel alive, you turned to dope. How everyone abandoned you...how nobody gave a shit about you...but I do."

My brow furrowed as his words momentarily took my thoughts from attempting to create a weapon. Had he been snooping in my brain? It was true...after I delved into drugs to feel something other than pain, I became hooked. It was like even after I started realizing they were doing nothing to help me...I just couldn't say no. Every inch of me ached inside and out. I couldn't think about anything except getting my next fix and relieving the physical and emotional pain of not having smack in my system. I had resorted to snorting blow when it was all that others had to offer, but the high was so short, it did little to calm me. And nobody wants a dope fiend around...

What few people who had done anything to at least act like they were my friend, completely disappeared after that. The addiction led to an extreme amount of poor and irrational choices, including leaving me sleeping in the snow behind dumpsters at many points. I'd started stealing to pay for my drug and even stole cans of food so I didn't wither away entirely. When I'd finally been busted for breaking and entering, I was mandated to attend rehab and then therapy afterward while I worked for the state to pay off my fines... If he knew about all this...then he must know everything about my plot with the children he had killed...why was he pretending to care about me? He could easily kill me or at the very least ignore me- not visit me so I couldn't kill him if it was even possible. So why?

"What do you mean?" I asked in a softer tone. "Because we both had similar childhoods?"

Freddy grinned, "That could be part of it...but I meant because I'm the only one who appreciates your existence, Mark."

I scoffed, knowing the bastard was lying through his teeth, "Really, now? And how is that?"

"Why do you think those kids came to you, huh? Why _you_ out of all people?" the demon inquired.

"Because I was messed up enough to actually bring you back for them," I shrugged. "Because I happened to go to Springwood and see them loitering."

"Ah!" he was grinning deviously again, "It _was_ because you saw them."

I squinted dumbly at the man before me, not taking in his meaning. However, I knew he was just fucking around...he had to be. He was a psychopath, a child murderer at that! Yet, since I still hadn't formulated a plan or been able to draw the sword I was envisioning, I carried the conversation further, "I don't understand."

"Not everyone sees ghosts, _Mark_ ," he pointed at me with his index blade. "And traveling to Hell while still alive? Also doesn't come so easily to physical creatures such as humans. I knew you were special the moment I smelled you."

"So you're saying I have...powers?" I asked incredulously though his words actually made sense.

"AHAHAHA!" He belted again, suddenly disappearing and reappearing directly in front of me, so close that our noses could touch, "How's that sword coming, buddy?"

I froze...less due to his shift in position and more because he had known the entire time that I was just preparing to kill him. Not having made any progress, I readied myself to feel the steel of his claws plunge inside me as I made a desperate attempt to flee and find another way to fight. However, when I lifted my arms to push against his chest to get away, I pulled the same flaming sword I had been thinking about up with them. The motion seemed to startle Freddy as our close proximity meant that I unintentionally cut into his sweater, simultaneously igniting it.

The demon jumped back, viciously patting the small fire before it grew. Bewildered, my eyes fell to the weapon that looked like something straight out of a fantasy epic. Fuck, it was about time! I wondered if it would actually do any good against Freddy... Well, there was only one way to find out! I lunged forward, striking at my opponent relentlessly. To be honest, I had never used a sword before in my life so I had no idea what to do other than to try and hit him whilst mimicking warriors I had seen in movies.

I felt I had been doing a fair job of it too, except for the fact that I never struck the demon and eventually, he once more disappeared, teleporting behind me, arms growing and slinking around me to tie me up as if they were ropes. At the end of it, I couldn't move at all, my weapon having dropped while trying to fend his inhuman arms away from me. His head had remained resting above my shoulder throughout it all and when I was properly subdued, he whispered in my ear.

"Aw, why are you so angry at me? I'm not the one who used you," he chuckled.

"You're a fucking murderer and a demon!" I shouted back, ignoring his mind games, "And I shouldn't have brought you here!"

"Now you're just hurting my feelings," he replied sarcastically, "Suit yourself, then. Remain in the dark."

Strangely enough, I felt his intense hold on my body loosen as his arms slithered away, letting me thud to the ground as I was unable to keep my balance after the abrupt release. I immediately twisted my head whilst looking toward him and searching for my sword. When I spotted the large blade laying nearby, no longer shining brightly amidst flame, I grabbed it and found my feet. Freddy had put a distance of several feet between us before stopping and simply observing me.

Coming to life again with my touch, I held my weapon high and steadied my stance for attack, "I'm not playing your stupid mind games!"

"Hmph," Krueger's face was straight, "Do what you want; unlike others, I'm not going to boss you. When you're ready to enlighten yourself, I'll be here."

The demon turned to the side, lifting his glove and slicing through the air. The movement seemed to tear a hole through the very fabric of the world we were in. Red energy beamed through the shredding and began eating away at the area around it to form a large circle of light. A portal? Realizing that he was about to escape, I jolted forward, the fire surrounding my sword growing brighter as I ran.

Freddy, however, seemed without concern for the attack. He simply looked back at me, giving a quick swish of his own blades. The metal of our weapons scraped against each other, temporarily drawing more of his attention to me. Dark, crimson eyes boring into me just as with our first encounter, a smirk found his face. He didn't appear to be having any trouble holding the position even though it was taking every ounce of my strength to keep it. And everyone- the ghosts, that other demon- had all said he wasn't very strong. I'd like to know in what ways they meant! Or maybe I was just that weak...

With the reiteration of my own worthlessness, my will seemed to shrink, allowing my opponent to shove me off. When my ass hit the floor once again, I glared up at him. He turned his smirk in my direction as he lifted a hand and tipped his fedora at me before stepping through the exit he had created.

"Mark? Maaaaark!" a friendly voice, accompanied by gentle nudging, woke me up.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes so that I could discern who it was. Once my eyes were clear and I blinked a few times to clear my vision, I saw Devin standing beside my bed smiling.

"Glad you could get some sleep," he continued, "But it's dinner time. Thought you might want some chow."

I looked from him to scan the room. My mind was still on the dream and on where Krueger had gone to...what his reasoning was for toying with me and not killing me. What did he want? Extending my arms above my head, then bending them behind my back to finish the stretch, I answered, "I'm not really hungry after lunch, but thanks."

"Well, at any rate, you should get your tray so you keep getting better marks. Ha! That sounds weird saying since your name is Mark!" Devin laughed, "Besides, if you don't want your food, you can give it to me. And that will make you look like you did eat."

I shook my head and chuckled, "Alright. Anything to get me out of here sooner."

"Score," the guy said under his breath, but loud enough that I could hear.

I chortled louder, appreciating his silly attitude if at least for the moment. As we both made our way back to the activity room where food was being handed out though, the small bit of happiness fled and I was thinking about Krueger again. He was out there. There was no denying it anymore. It had been five days now...how many could he have gotten to in that time? How much damage had been done while I sat in the hospital drowning in self-pity and guilt?

"Devin?" I started, handing off the burger on my plate to him, "Is there any way to get the news in here? I haven't seen the TV on anything but DVD sitcoms."

"Thanks," he quickly grabbed my burger and took a bite, "Yeah, technically they're not allowed to keep current events from patients. It's like...a civil rights thing? I don't know. But they wont offer that stuff freely. Want people focusing on the problems that brought them here and shit. So you gotta ask one of the workers and they'll give you a newspaper or something."

"Oh, alright," I nodded, immediately looking around to see who of the staff were in the room, "Last time I was in a ward, I didn't really care about it so I didn't know how that worked."

"Yeah, I don't care for none of it. News is always either bad news or unimportant shit," Devin took another bite.

I put my eyes on him again, "I can't argue that."

The man lifted his head and settled me in his sight, "Then why do you want it?"

Taking in a deep breath, I remembered how understanding he had been earlier and decided to answer truthfully, "You remember the ghost that I was talking about?" Devin nodded. "Well," I kept on, "I saw him during my nap...and...I think he may have already hurt other people...while I was in here."

My friend set his burger down and stared at me inquisitively, "You think they'd put ghost attacks in the newspaper?"

He didn't seem doubtful, only very curious. I knew he had to be thinking about the stereotypical ghost stuff: items moving around the house, feeling a cold hand on your shoulder...shit like that. And that certainly was not the type of thing typically shared on the news.

I sighed and hung my head, "They have before...with this guy, that is..."

"Hey!" Devin reached a finger out and tapped it on my tray to get my attention so I looked back at him. "I can tell this is a touchy subject for you, but you can honestly talk to me. I'm not one of those dicks that's going to call you bonkers or something," then he changed from solemn to jovial, "Look at where I am," he laughed, "According to these guys, we're both crazy, so how can I judge you?"

A smile crept onto my face, feeling genuine relief at the sincerity of his words, "Ok, well, you asked for it..."


	15. Chapter 15: Just Shoot Me

"Dude, that's pretty intense," was Devin's reaction to my story.

I hesitated, "So you believe me?"

"I don't see why I shouldn't," he shrugged, "Especially with all the proof you can show me when we get out of here."

"You mean from Maggie?" I asked.

"Hey, that's a good idea! We can go to Springwood and you can introduce me," the man beamed.

"Wait, wait!" I threw my hand up to reiterate the command, not expecting the suggestion. "I can just Google it, ya know? No need to make a trip."

Devin laughed, "Oh, I'm sorry... I didn't think about it. You probably don't want her to know you were the one that brought Freddy back."

I sighed heavily, pushing my chair out from the table and standing, "I'm going to see if I can find that newspaper now."

I strolled over to the door where a female nurse named Sandy was standing.

"Hey, Mark, is everything alright?" she asked politely.

"Yeah," I offered a weak smile, "I was just wondering if there was a newspaper or something I could read."

"Oh, they usually keep a couple of copies behind the counter," she answered. "I can go check for you."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that," I replied.

The woman nodded at me, then made a gesture with her arm at a male nurse standing on the opposite side of the room before going out into the hallway. After she left, I made my way back to the table where Devin was patiently waiting. I plopped down in the same seat and let out a long breath.

"Ya know," he started in, "If you want to see her again, you don't _have_ to tell her."

"What?" I asked, my agitation showing as I scrunched my face.

"I'm just saying, she doesn't have to know that you brought Freddy back intentionally," Devin clarified.

"I'm not going to lie to her," I spat back, "Besides, she's basically a stranger. I'm not going to show up at her house, uninvited, and with a guest. Certainly not another _man_ she doesn't know."

"Hey," Devin leaned forward, seemingly offended as his eyes narrowed on me, "What's wrong with me being a man?"

"Well, nothing," I responded awkwardly, shying away from the harsh tone I'd been using, "It's just, she's a woman and it kind of looks bad for strange guys to just show up at a lady's place."

Devin eased back in his chair, his expression also appearing to relax, "I guess that makes sense. Would it help to know I'm gay?"

Oh...he didn't strike me as... Wait, was he just saying he was gay because he wanted to meet Freddy's daughter or was he really gay? And why was he so interested in seeing her in the first place? Not only would the internet have all the information on Fred Krueger, it would be easiest and cheapest to do a web search rather than drive all the way to Springwood and hope Maggie was around.

"I don't think so," I finally said, "She wouldn't know you were gay and even if you told her, how would she know it was the truth?"

The man in front of me laughed, throwing his arms over his head and bending them so that his hands were resting on top of his skull, "Yeah, I guess you're right. Just sounded like a fun idea to go to Springwood with you."

"No offense, but I'm not really focused on 'fun' right now," I exhaled.

Once more, Devin's demeanor became solemn, his posture changing likewise, "Sorry. I just meant that it would be nice to be able to help you out and I thought going back there might..."

There was a short pause while I contemplated actually returning there for advice. No, that would be my last resort. I needed to start elsewhere. Those kids...they had been the ones that started all this. Surely they could offer some sort of help and they most definitely owed me an explanation as to why they failed in restraining Freddy in the first place... Wait...SHIT, GODDAMN IT, MARK! That was my fault too, wasn't it? I was supposed to call to them when I fell asleep so they could enter my dreams, but I hadn't done it. At the hospital, when I first saw the demon in this world, it had happened too fast and then they gave me the ketamine to knock me out, but that medicine also makes you lose your memory while under its influence...meaning I hadn't dreamt. And during my nap? I still hadn't done it. The fuck was wrong with me? Why couldn't I just get my shit together and think straight for once?

"Here's that paper you were wanting, Mark," Sandy's voice tore me from my thoughts.

I looked up at her, unable to smile, but somehow managing a thanks while resting my hand on the newspaper she had placed on the table in front of me. I watched her leave and resume her guard at the door before sliding it closer to me and gazing down at the front page. The only articles I saw were things to do with the upcoming elections and the campaign events of both parties so I flipped to the next one which was mostly a continuation of what hadn't been finished on the first. I turned the page again. There, in bold letters, was the information I was looking for.

 _ **Third Child Dies to Unknown Assailant, Detectives Puzzled, Parents Frightened**_

I shook my head as I went on to read the article out loud, " _Another child, aged 10, was pronounced dead last night after police arrived on the scene, having been called by the deceased's father. Parents report having checked on their daughter before turning in for the night, only to find her amidst bloodied sheets with massive, claw-like gashes all over her body. There are currently no suspects in the case, but the three deaths are thought to be linked. Police warn all parents to keep a sharp eye on their children, especially during the night hours. If you have any information on these occurrences or notice any suspicious activity, please report to..._

I stopped reading there, knowing there was no point in committing the number to memory as everything I could tell them would just end with a longer stay in a psychiatric facility. Turning to Devin, I waited to hear his reaction, hoping if he had only been humoring me, that this was proof enough for him for the time being. Initially, I thought he would suspect that I had something to do with the murders...I mean, directly, not just having set a dream demon loose, but had then realized I had been admitted since before the given dates so it wasn't really logical to think I was the culprit.

"Damn," he breathed, leaning forward again and peering over at the article himself.

As his eyes scanned it, I started verbalizing my plan, "I need to speak to Emma and the others first; see if they can still get him under control if I let them into my dreams."

"Sounds like a good place to begin," Devin agreed, looking up from the newspaper, "But why wouldn't they be able to?"

"Because Freddy's..." my eyes darted over to a new patient that had hovered over to our table, absentmindedly staring and poking about. "Freddy's f-" the woman beside us started reaching out and patting my hand that was resting on the table.

"Ok, alright, Patricia," Sandy's soothing voice piped in as she came forward and put gentle hands on the patient's shoulders, "How about we go grab a glass of water and watch some TV, hm?"

The nurse offered an apologetic smile to Devin and me before guiding Patricia off. Once she had left, I heard my new friend's kind laugh, "Think she's really gone upstairs or her pills are just too strong?"

I shook my head, "You never know. Anyway, if he's already killed three kids, that means he's fed which would make him stronger, right? The ghost posse had intended on taking Freddy over before he was able to do that so I don't know if that was because he would be too strong otherwise."

"Hm, makes sense," Devin hummed. "The good thing is you should be able to just call out to them, right? Isn't that what they said?"

"Yeah, but that's something else I'm confused about," I admitted, "Why haven't they been here to bitch at me? Outside of my dreams, I mean."

The man in front of me shrugged, "Maybe they were able to get to Freddy another way and have been focusing on him? Maybe they can only go to certain places and this isn't one of them. Or," he kept spitballing ideas, "If you do have some sort of power where spiritual things like astral travel and seeing ghosts is easier for you, maybe it has something to do with you being messed up lately."

I looked at him quizzically for a moment, making him realize the way that last statement had sounded.

"Not messed up as in crazy," Devin corrected, "I meant because you've been going without sleeping and eating so your body's been weak. All those spiritual gurus say a healthy physical body helps make your spiritual body stronger too...or at least makes it easier to access your spiritual gifts."

"Right," I nodded, having not actually known that was a thing. "Well, I ate and slept today. Maybe it's enough."

"It's best to look on the bright side," my companion grinned, "So, there's still another couple of hours before curfew...what ya gonna do?"

"I don't know," I shrugged.

I hadn't known, but after thumbing through the rest of the newspaper and listening to Devin's idle chatter, we both ended up watching a few episodes of some show called, 'Just Shoot Me.' It was a late '90s, early 2000s sitcom. I wasn't really into comedies or dramas so much, but somehow found all the lewd innuendos of the series entertaining. Devin seemed to thoroughly enjoy it as well despite all the sex jokes in the episodes we viewed being strictly hetero. Guess it was kind of how straight people could find gay jokes hilarious.

After the third one, a nurse shut the TV down and told everyone who was still out that it was time to return to our rooms. Devin walked with me to the door where he waited for another patient to pass before assuring me that everything was going to be alright and to just try and focus all my energy and intent on what I wanted to accomplish. He then wished me luck and sauntered off to his room. I smiled, having grown fond of the guy very quickly, and then turned to the other side to retreat to my own bed.

I found the same trouble trying to fall asleep this time as I had earlier. It was strange since not only was I tired, but for the past many years, I had never had trouble with sleeping when I wanted to. In fact, I slept most of the time after getting clean. It had to be the anxiety about trying to stop a demon in addition to knowing that people... _children_...were dying because of my selfish choices. Even if the rest of my life never got better, I had to make this right. Eventually, though, I did fall asleep, awaking once more in an empty hospital.

"Emma?" I called, "Damian? Todd? Chris?"

I made careful steps out of my room and through the hall, keeping as alert as I could for fear that Freddy would be back to haunt me at any moment. I called for Emma again and when there was no answer, I stopped, closing my eyes and doing what Devin had suggested. I imagined all of my energy rushing inside of me and tried to focus it into a single point...a single desire: to connect to those ghosts.

"Mark?" the gothic teen's voice sounded.

"Emma!" my eyes shot open and I rushed toward where she stood a few doors down, but stopped in my tracks when I realized it could be another trap. "How do I know it's really you?"

The girl rolled her eyes and stomped forward. Damian appeared from behind the nurse's station to her side and the other two boys ran out of one of the nearby rooms. I put a foot backward, simultaneously drawing my sword from earlier. That was much easier than I expected... Seeing my blade, the ghosts halted and placed their sights intently upon me.

"So where is he?" the leader placed both hands on her hips.

"He-" my head turned from side to side, trying to look all around without removing the teens from my vision, "I don't know."

Emma took another step forward, glaring, "You called us here _before_ you saw him?"

"Hey! He was here when I went to sleep earlier, I-"

"Mark, you idiot!" the girl interrupted me with a growl, "We have to have the upper hand! If he knows we're here-" she paused, taking in a deep breath as if trying to calm herself, "Look, we have to go. We need to figure out how to stop him before any more kids get killed."

"Wait!" I yelled as she turned to leave, "What do I do to help?"

"You?!" Emma had spun back around, heavy eyes resting on me, "You've done enough. You've made it clear you can't follow instructions! You were supposed to let us in the first time you saw him, but instead you let him get past you _twice._ Not only that, you also gave him four days in this realm to find more fuel in between those times! We don't need your help, Mark. Just fuck off."

Taken aback by her sudden outburst, I simply stood and stared after her. I knew I had fucked up, but... "Hey, wait just a minute!" I mustered the courage to defend myself, "None of this would have happened at all if you wouldn't have been so set on getting your revenge! You could have just left him in Hell where he wasn't doing any damage."

The girl actually halted momentarily to glance back at me while I choked the words out. I saw a twinge of hurt in her expression yet she said nothing else before disappearing into nothingness along with the rest of her group.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I actually happened to like 'Just Shoot Me' a whole lot when I was a teenager. It's about the staff of a modeling agency/magazine and their day-to-day shenanigans at work. The name of the show is supposed to be a play on words- shoot as in taking a picture and well, the cliche thing to say when you're fed up with things 'Ugh, just shoot me.' David Spade is in it and I absolutely love him.**


	16. Chapter 16: Stop

"Hey man, try not to worry about it so much. You're doing what you can," Devin said reassuringly the next morning when I told him about my night.

After the ghosts departed, I had searched the hospital only to find nothing but empty rooms and white halls. Gradually, the scene started to change, switching first to my apartment, then to the various places of Springwood I had gone to, and then to my childhood homes. With each shift, the next one came more quickly until I found myself standing amidst constantly flashing scenarios...all memories from both my past and present slowly becoming jumbled together. I kept finding myself screaming at Freddy, assuming that he was manipulating the nightmare to show it all to me, but I never heard or saw him. Before I woke up, I had sunk to the ground, hugging my knees and crying as I begged for it to stop.

I don't care what was said, Devin was a good guy. He came into my room to alert me that breakfast was being served and when I told him that I was just going to sleep in, he told me, _'Alright, but you know they never put enough food out for breakfast. I was kind of hoping to eat yours too.'_ I couldn't help but smile. The thing was, I didn't know if he legitimately wanted more food as I had noticed he had a ravenous appetite, or if he was just trying to help me feel better. Either way, it worked and I reluctantly got out of bed and followed after him.

Since I still hadn't felt like talking yet, we sat through the meal silently. I felt like Devin was allowing the silence because he didn't want to push me, but maybe he had just been waking up. I drank my coffee and let him scarf down the rest of what was on my plate which, like he said, wasn't much. After he was done and returned both our trays for us, he came back and started asking me what was up. I just shrugged it off at first, not wanting to think about the things I had seen, and he politely went about answering his own questions again like he had during our first encounter. It was close to ten in the morning when I finally told him what had happened.

"Yeah, I guess," I mumbled with my head hung as I focused on the new cup of coffee in my lap, "I don't know though, maybe she's right. Maybe I should just leave it alone."

"Like fuck she's right!" Devin blurted, causing my head to shoot up, "The way I see it, if they needed you to get him in the first place, then you're needed to get rid of him. And with Freddy refusing to simply kill you, it would make even more sense that you're stronger than them. Why else would he do that if you had nothing to offer him? or at the very least it's because he isn't capable of offing you?"

As I stared at the man in front of me, his words soaked in and pulled me out of the depressive state that had been trying to take over once more. "I think you're right," I breathed.

"Of course I am," he laughed, "So what's the plan now?"

I paused, rubbing my chin as I thought, "Hm...Maggie finally got rid of Krueger by dragging him out of the dream world and killing him in this one. I guess since that was proven to work, I should try that."

"You think he'll be expecting that trick again?" Devin asked.

"Probably," my brow furrowed, "Should I focus on weakening him first or something?"

My sounding board pursed his lips, eyes rolling back and forth before he spoke his thoughts, "Yeah, I think so. And it would help if you had a partner too."

"Yeah, that would be nice," I admitted, "But I don't think Emma and the others are too keen on working with me right now."

Devin chuckled, "I meant me."

Eyes widening while I contemplated his offer, I realized I wasn't really sure how to take it. I didn't want to put the guy in harm's way and at the same time, I absolutely _had_ to take Krueger down so I needed all the assistance I could get. Besides, Devin was still young so what if he was in danger from Freddy anyway? "Ok," I agreed, "I'd appreciate the help. But I'd have to see if that is actually something I can do...bring you into my dream, I mean. According to Maggie, it's not a talent everyone has."

"My guess is you can," my new partner smiled, "With what you've done so far and what I've pointed out about there being something more to you and all."

I returned the smile, "Alright, I'll try to do that first. Try and build up our strength and then hopefully, I can get Freddy back into my dreams too."

"Or get into his," Devin pointed, "Or rather someone else's dream that he happens to be in at the time. Travel the dream realm yourself, you know."

"I didn't think of that," I blinked awkwardly.

"Devin James?" a voice called into the room, drawing both of our attention.

"Woot!" Devin cheered raising from his seat, "Looks like I'll be leaving as soon as I sign the discharge orders."

"Oh," I whispered, not liking that I was now going to be stuck in the ward without him. "I guess I'll see you around? I don't know when I'll be let out yet."

"You keep eating and sleeping and telling them that you're trying to work on things, they'll let you out soon," he grinned. "Should I come back to the hospital to look for you or...where should I hang around to find you? I don't have a phone or anything so..."

I stood up, almost having forgotten that the guy was going to be homeless once he left the hospital, "If we can get something to write with, I'll give you my address if you just want to check there every so often."

"Sounds good; thanks," he beamed.

It was probably ill-advised to give a stranger- a psychiatric patient at that- my address, but I had spent a few days with him and didn't get a bad vibe. Besides, I didn't have anything of value if he decided to break in and I wasn't worried about him trying to hurt me or anything. If he did, he did, and I'd handle it. I walked with him to the nurses' station where he signed his papers while one of the workers watched as I used their pen to scribble down a note before handing the contraband back to them. Then I waited for Devin to be done and gave him the paper which he shoved into the pocket of the shorts he had changed into earlier in preparation for his departure.

"Take it easy, Mark," he smiled, reaching both arms around my shoulders to gather me into a hug, "We'll figure it all out."

I had never been the touchy type, but I returned the embrace and patted his back as we both loosened from each other's hold, "Thanks, Devin."

"No problem," he turned and began walking off with the orderly meant to make sure he actually left the ward and that nothing was snuck in or out.

I watched until he was completely past the large doors, his escort locking them tightly and then strolling back in my direction. I sighed and walked into the activity room again. The rest of the day went by terribly slowly. I considered trying to talk to some of the other patients to pass the time, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I ended up sitting beside the zombie-minded Patricia and viewing more old sitcoms. The meals came and went without me eating much, but at least I ate. When it was finally time for sleep, I hopped into bed gladly.

Now the real work would begin.

As I fell asleep, I thought about Devin and about sitting with him in my apartment and chatting there like we had done here at the ward. When I entered the dream realm, I found myself in the home, but not with him. Instead, I was completely alone. Oh well, having been able to choose the scenery was a good start, I suppose. I made my way to the sofa and got comfortable, closing my eyes and thinking about my new friend again.

After what had to be ten minutes, I opened my eyes and began walking around the apartment to see if he _had_ appeared, just somewhere else. He hadn't. It was frustrating, but I sat and tried one more time, only to get the same results. _Dammit._ Well, I had been able to manipulate the setting...so I decided to practice changing where I was. I began thinking about the hospital. Not only its reality; also how I had seen it in previous dreams. Initially, I thought nothing happened yet then I felt the urge to walk outside my apartment. Opening the front door let in a bright light which I cautiously stepped into.

 _Fuck yes! That's what I'm talking about!_

Traveling through that entry had led me into the psych ward, vacant just as before. Maybe once more...I thought, taking a breath and then walking through one of the bedroom doors to see I was in Maggie's living room. I don't know why that had been where my mind went. Probably because it was a recent, pleasant experience. Either way, when I made it there, I realized I wasn't alone. In that same cushy chair where she sat during our conversation, was Maggie, sleeping curled up in blankets like a burrito.

I smiled at the sight yet immediately shook my head to remind myself that the possibility of it not actually being her loomed. I could see her face, though, and I had no sense of anxiety as I approached her, unlike how I had felt when Freddy tricked me. Right before my hand touched the fabric on her shoulder, however, I retreated. If this was the real Maggie...like I was in her dream or vice versa...I didn't want her to see me. Instead, I backpedaled to get away before she awoke and spotted me. I had made it back to her door and turned around when I heard a voice.

"Mark?"

 _Shit._ I stayed where I was, unmoved, hoping that if I didn't spin to face her, she would assume I wasn't really me or at least consider it. Unfortunately, I was greeted with a hand on my shoulder instead, her voice repeating my name.

"Mark, what are you doing here?"

 _Fuck shit fuck fuck!_ Not knowing what else to do, I jerked the door in front of me open and jumped through, not focusing any intent on where I wanted it to lead. As I leapt, I realized the ground had fallen out from under me and I was dropping through the air, finally thudding onto an old, musty and dirty shag carpet...a rug that I'd know anywhere. I lifted my head from the floor, slowly pushing myself onto my knees and then up to my feet. It was my home from when I was a kid...the first one from before I was put in foster care.

"Alright, you little pussy," a voice I hadn't heard in years growled.

It was accompanied by tiny feet padding through the room, running past me as their owner desperately grabbed at the handle of a door there. It was me. I couldn't say my exact age, but I knew I was younger than ten. I observed as the little me tried to wiggle the door open, not understanding that it was bolted shut much higher up than I could reach. Breathing heavily suddenly and filled with intense, enveloping fear, I realized I had become the kid again.

"Running from me? HUH?!" my mother's voice boomed as she entered.

I glanced back at her, tears streaming down my face as I kept trying to escape, but to no avail. The woman, in a fit of anger, rushed up behind me and grabbed hold of my arm, tearing it away so forcefully that I could feel my elbow pop. My bone began to ache and I wondered if she had broken my arm as I cried out in pain.

"SHUTTUP!" she screamed, "I'll teach ya to run from me, you little shit."

"Please," I began sobbing, my face completely soaked with salt, "Let me go, please! I'm sorry!" I begged.

"Too late for that, you fucking worthless excuse for a- STOP FUCKING FIGHTING ME!" she yelled, pulling at me, jerking me every different direction to shake the struggle out of me.

I kept crying, pleading...my child mind re-living the terror of the incident while my adult mind remembered what happened next. As she drug me into the next room, my vision went black and I could hear my own screams...the screams that had only been heard by uncaring ears. As the pain of the experience overwhelmed me, I dug into myself, finding the courage to take control.

"STOP!" I yelled, the power of my grown body coming back to me as my vision returned as well.

I saw her then, beating me with the old steel cane and I threw my hand upward from my position cowering on the floor under the agony of the welts she had given me. Grasping onto the weapon, I rose to my feet, my body easily rising taller than the evil woman as I forced her back against the wall. As I ripped the cane from her hands, I turned the attack on her, striking her over and over until it wash _her_ that was cowering, begging me to stop. But I wouldn't. I kept hitting her over and over, her blood splattering onto the wall behind her, onto the floral dress she wore, and onto my face. I gave blow after blow until her face was no longer recognizable, her skull completely caved in.

And I continued even after that, releasing the frustrations and fury of a lifetime as I shouted,  
"STOP FUCKING HITTING ME!"  
"LEAVE ME ALONE!"  
"YOU WORTHLESS FUCKING WHORE!"  
"STOP!"

Stop...


	17. Chapter 17: Partners

"I'm proud of you, Mark," Doctor Stokes told me, "You know, progress doesn't come easy, but it starts in that small, usually abrupt moment where we decide to make a change and rise above...and it seems that you may have, in fact, had that moment."

I gave her a half-smile, still uncertain that I could pull through, yet definitely feeling far more confident, "Does that mean I can go home now?"

"Well, I feel confident in sending you off, but I'm required to ask," she said, "Are you currently a danger to yourself or others?"

I shook my head, "No."

"Alright, on that promise, I can discharge you," she nodded, "I'll have the papers drawn up and the nurse will call you when they're finished."

"Thank you," I smiled, lifting myself from the chair in front of her desk.

"I do want you to follow up with a therapist," the doctor added.

I knew that was coming, "Ok, I will," I lied and turned toward the door.

"Mark," she stated plainly, obviously waiting for me to put my attention on her again.

 _Goddammit, just let me go..._ I complained silently before spinning around.

"I'll have an appointment set up for you before you leave," she grinned at me, clearly not convinced that I would follow through. "The facility is here in town and they take your insurance so there's no burden to you."

I sighed in defeat, "Thank you."

Then I was finally able to make it out the door. It had been another three days since Devin left, making my total time in the ward five days. A typical stay for a short term wing. I was just happy I had been able to show I was no longer suicidal so that I didn't get transferred into long-term treatment.

The days had gone by much the same with nothing happening. At one point, I almost had a conversation going with another patient. It had started off as stereotypical guy talk. Sports, fighting, women, but with the last topic, he randomly started talking about raping Patricia. He said that he could do it and get away with it because she was too far gone to report it. I had to admit that it made me really uncomfortable to hear someone talk like that so casually...yet somehow, I found the strength to say, "I'd report you."

The guy then turned on me, yelling something to the effect of shutting me up by fucking my pretty boy mouth. My heart jumped when he moved closer to me and raised his voice to say it. Thankfully, one of the male nurses rushed over and pulled the man back which just made him angrier and he kept spouting shit and fighting the nurse's grip. Other staff came in and had to sedate the guy. I found it odd that nobody asked if I was alright, but I guess since they ended up putting him in the isolation room, it didn't really matter.

More importantly, I felt I was starting to get somewhere with these dream powers. I had tried again the second night to somehow reach Devin and was still unable so I switched to consciously rotating the place I was in, being careful not to end up at 1428 Elm again. That seemed to come easiest to me and I quickly concluded that I had the hang of it. Then, I put my attention on drawing my sword. It was a little more difficult, but by the end of last night, I felt it was getting simpler.

Admittedly, it was the astral travel experience that helped me to perfect these techniques. The more I focused on controlling that energy inside of me, my spirit, and using it to complete tasks other than removing it from my body, I realized that the dream realm was just that: spiritual. I had wanted to move on and try making other things happen in that world like telekinesis or pyrokinesis, but I was awoken by the sound of a patient roaming the halls undergoing intervals of shouting and then mumbling to himself. By the time staff had him under control, I couldn't get back to sleep and not long after, the first meal of the day was provided.

"Mark Chressler?"

I was relieved when my name was called, instantly skipping from the activity room and to the nurses' station where I underwent the same discharge procedure that Devin had days prior. Once everything was signed and I had my follow-up orders, I was escorted out of the ward. I had had my wallet in my pants when I'd been taken to the hospital in the first place, so I was able to hail a cab to take me home. When we pulled up to my apartment complex and I saw the total, I was afraid I didn't have enough to pay the driver. However, I ended up with the fee plus eight dollars left over.

I glanced up and down the front of the building, trying to see if Devin was hanging around, but it didn't appear so. I made my way into the building and up the stairs to the second floor, only to see my new friend standing outside my apartment door. I grinned when I laid eyes on him, having missed his company.

"You've got great timing," I said.

"Nah," he laughed, "They always do the discharges at the same time so I've just been coming every day to check for you."

"Oh," I replied awkwardly, "That makes sense."

As I stepped toward the door and pulled my key out to open it, I noticed that he was wearing the same clothes he did the day he left. I knew he was going to be on the streets, but I had wondered if he'd be able to get whatever possessions he had from his sister. I didn't want to be rude and point out that he had nothing yet at the same time I wanted to check on him especially since he probably hadn't had money to buy himself any food either.

"Well, they had me out before lunch so I'm going to head in to cook something for us," I decided on saying, "You can go take a shower if you want while I figure that out. I know I hate putting on the same outfit after I bathe and it looks like we're close in size if you want to snag something from my closet."

By that time, I had the apartment open and had stepped through the doorway. I head Devin say ' _hey, thanks, man,_ ' as he followed me, but I didn't say anything else for fear it would be too much. Instead, I simply strolled to my fridge and began searching for things I could fix. There wasn't much left so I ended up making due with bologna sandwiches and ramen. My friend showered quickly and emerged in a pair of my blue jeans and a white tank top. It was the most I'd seen of him since modesty was strictly enforced at the ward and even sleeveless tops were against the rules. The guy was actually well-built like he worked out on the daily.

"See something you like?" Devin flirted playfully, making me realize I had been staring.

"No," I said quickly, then thinking I was rude, added, "I mean, I'm glad the clothes fit is all."

The guy laughed as he came further into the room to take the plate I was holding out for him, "I'm just fucking around, Mark."

I grinned sheepishly. To be honest, I'd never really been stable enough to think much about what I was and wasn't attracted to. I mean, I had had sex with women before and I had masturbated, but it'd never been a prime concern of mine. I could, however, admit that Devin was physically attractive and I'd already established I liked his personality. Yet, this still wasn't the time for such things and my attention instantly redirected to the task at hand. I didn't eat much of my food and instead spent most of meal time on the phone talking to my boss and explaining what had happened. Fortunately for me, he hadn't actually fired me in the first place and had only taken my name off the schedule. Also, since he was in need of my employment, he went ahead and began my regular routine as if nothing had ever happened. Now that all that was out of the way...

"So, I guess you weren't able to pull me into your dream?" Devin asked on cue as I put my cell to rest and picked up my fork.

"No, but I have been getting better with manipulating my dreams. I even reached Maggie at one point," I answered.

"Oh? That's cool. How did that go?" my friend smiled as he swallowed the last bite from his plate.

Absentmindedly, I dropped the utensil in my hand and pushed my plate over to him like I'd gotten used to doing in the hospital, "Well, I tried to leave before she could see me...but she said my name and asked why I was there. I disappeared without responding."

"Oof. Well, for all she knows it wasn't the real you, right?" Devin offered.

"Yeah, but I somehow doubt that's the case," I muttered. "Anyway, I have the weekend off from work. I was thinking maybe we could do some more research into these spiritual powers. Like perhaps you could try coming into my dream at the same time I'm trying to get to you. It might be easier that way."

"Sounds good to me..." he gave a half-grin and took a bite out of the sandwich I had slid his way. It seemed like he wanted to say something, making me wonder if he was doubting my sanity at last, but then he finally spoke, "Your boss isn't hiring is he?"

"That bastard is always hiring because nobody wants to work for him," I rolled my eyes.

"You're a glutton for punishment, I see," Devin poked with a laugh.

I smiled, "Come in with me Monday and apply. See if I'm joking for yourself."

"I'll do that," he replied. Was that all that he had wanted? A job? and not worried that he was bunking with a deluded freak? Wait. _Bunking._ I hadn't ever asked him if he wanted to stay with me. "Devin, you know you're welcome to sleep on the couch while you're settling out. I mean, I'd offer you a bedroom, and don't take this the wrong way, but there's just the one and..."

"Woah," the man threw his hands up, "I really appreciate that. I'm sorry if I came onto you or made you feel uncomfortable like that."

"No no!" I assured, "You didn't, _I_ just didn't want to be the one to do that and give you the wrong impression is all."

Devin laughed, "Honestly, I've gotten to a point where I just assume all guys are straight."

I smiled, "I really haven't done enough dating to think about things like that."

The conversation seemed to feel a little awkward then, but being the master extrovert that he apparently was, Devin quickly and casually slipped us into another topic. The rest of the day, we chatted, watched TV and when I had started cleaning the place up, my new roommate pitched in. When it was dark out, but still early, we both decided to head to bed, having formulated our plans for attempting to meet each other in the dream world. The idea was that, using the technique for focusing the spirit that I had learned, we'd both got to sleep envisioning sitting on the couch together and talking. With past success, I went in expecting it to work so I was disappointed when it didn't even though I did find myself on the couch.

"Goddammit," I growled out loud only to be met with Devin's voice.

"Mark?"

"Devin?" I questioned, standing up from my seat and listening for where it had come from.

Just as I made it to the hall, he appeared, having come out of my bedroom.

"Dude, this is pretty trippy," the dream Devin reached out and touched my face with the tips of his fingers.

I reached up and swatted his hand away, "Were you in my bedroom?"

"Yeah, apparently," he laughed. "I honestly was thinking about the couch, but then my mind was like, well, I'm laying on the couch and Mark is actually in his bedroom...so I guess my brain got confused?"

I shook my head while grinning, somewhat having pictured a dirtier answer, "Well, at any rate, it worked. I guess now you need to try-"

"Oh, tsk tsk," the devious Fred Krueger cut me off, "This won't do at all."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: *pyrokinesis- the psychic ability to create and/or control fire with your mind**


	18. Chapter 18: Potential

We both spun immediately to face the demon that had appeared out of nowhere. My instinct was to assume that Devin wasn't real then, but glancing over at him as he gawked at the newcomer, there was no doubt that he was no trick.

"Here I've been politely leaving you alone after trying to help you out," Freddy placed a hand on his chest to mock having his feelings hurt, "And you've just been trying to get strong enough to kill me."

"I already told you I'm not playing your fucking games!" I growled, stepping slightly in front of Devin protectively until he finished processing what was happening, which didn't take long.

"Holy shit, look at that fucker," he said as he kept staring.

The blades on Freddy's chest clicked as he shot a glare at my friend, "Look at yourself, bitch!"

I looked toward Devin again, half-expecting him to actually look down at himself, yet he never did. Instead, he took another route at handling our problem, "I'm curious though, Mark, about what he has to say."

I squinted at him and whispered, "Are you insane?"

"You should listen to your friend," Freddy purred, lifting his hand from his chest and pointing at Devin with a blade.

My eyes darted between the two, Freddy having started to tap his foot, further displaying the impatient nature I had seen before, and Devin tilting his head toward me long enough to wink. I sighed, relenting under the assumption that he had good reason for humoring the demon, "What are you talking about, then?"

"Well..." he began walking slowly around the perimeter of my living room, "You say _I'm_ the one toying with you, but as I recall, it was those little ghost pals of yours that roped you into this and then dumped you when they couldn't get to me."

Devin and I had instinctively matched his steps to keep the same distance between us. I took a moment to consider Freddy's possible train of thought before answering. It had been clear that he was trying to play up to being on my side by alienating me from Emma and the others. That I understood. What I questioned was why he continued to act like he wasn't the enemy even after they had pushed me away. Thinking back to what Devin had said about me being a threat to the demon because of some spiritual power, it made the most sense that that was indeed it.

"Maybe they did," I agreed, "But that doesn't change the fact that you murder children! So even if they used me, I still have to kill you."

"You act as if you could!" Freddy chuckled, stopping where he stood and stretching his arms out to his sides in a confident stance.

"Then prove me wrong," I baited. "Kill me first."

The demon's arms slowly fell back down as his grin faded and he snarled, "Why would I want you dead, buddy?"

"I think the question is why don't you want him dead," Devin piped in.

There was a pause and I could tell Freddy was contemplating how to respond. I beat him to speaking though, "You said we were similar...that you _appreciated my existence_."

"Oh, so you were listening," he purred with the reminder, "Exactly. You're more like me than you realize and you're already on the path to figuring out why." When nothing was said after Devin and I exchanged glances, the demon continued, "Why do you think I was granted this new life, hm?"

"Because you made a deal with higher demons," I stated plainly.

He didn't like that I had referred to others as better than him, but he shoved the anger away to clarify his point, "But _why_ do you think they would make that deal with me? Hm? Well, I'll tell you. It's because, like you, I was spiritually gifted before I died."

"Oh so that's it," Devin said thoughtfully, "Mark has the potential to be powerful and you don't want the competition."

I had to admit, his nonchalant behavior in the dangerous situation was impressive...something Freddy clearly did not think as he cut sharp eyes at the human upon reaching that conclusion.

"Well, you're wasting your time because I would never join you and I'll never stop trying to destroy you until you're gone for good!" I spat, "So you might as well fight me now."

"If that's the way it's gonna be," Freddy growled, "You'll regret turning on me, bitch!"

And with that, the demon appeared directly in front of me, swiping his claw at my face. However, having readied myself since he first entered, I drew my own blade and easily parried his blow. Pushing back against his unyielding brawn, I decided instead to duck back and spin in a semicircle to lunge at him from the side. With a swing of my weapon, I cut into his back and caught his clothes on fire once again. He yelled out in frustration, quickly disappearing as he changed the setting to his boiler room. I don't know why it hadn't occurred to me before, but I understood then that it was his place of power...where he had the home field advantage, so to speak, because I noticed that the light of my sword had dimmed even though I was holding it just as firmly as I before.

"Devin?" I called upon turning and realizing he was no longer with me.

Everything fell quiet except for the sound of steam hissing from pipes in the distance and the occasional clinking of chains hanging from the ceiling brushing against each other as if someone had recently run through them. I attempted to flow more power into my weapon, but the flame wouldn't rise any higher. I then began stepping carefully toward where those chains were swaying, being certain to keep an eye all around me. When I reached them, I head a yell sound behind me, causing me to twist quickly where I placed my eyes on Devin within Freddy's grasp and unable to get free...the demon's claws pressed tightly against my friend's throat.

"Let him go, asshole!" I ordered, starting to run forward, yet the twitch of Freddy's blade against Devin's neck made me cease the attack.

"That's a good boy, Mark," Krueger grinned, "You may be a formidable opponent, but you don't want your boyfriend to get hurt now, do you?"

Ignoring the fact that we weren't dating, I grunted, aggravated at this sadistic trick, "You fucking pussy! Too scared to fight me so you're going to pull someone else in?"

"Unh-uh," he chuckled, " _You_ were the one that brought him in. I'm simply playing with the pieces you provided."

"Mark, just fucking kill him!" Devin forced the words out only for his captor to react by pressing the steel further into his flesh to draw a few trickles of blood.

"STOP!" I shouted, lowering my sword. "Just leave him alone."

"There. See? I knew you could be reasonable, buddy," Freddy laughed, not loosening his grip.

"Let him go now," I commanded, the fire around my weapon disappearing as it fell completely to my side.

"First, we need to make a little deal," Freddy purred.

I inhaled sharply, willing to do what I needed to save Devin while simultaneously plotting how I could get around my current predicament and slay the demon. But as I dropped the sword in my hand altogether and Freddy removed his claw to shove Devin to the ground, there came a sudden twist in our standings. Instead of falling into his freedom, my friend latched onto the arm that loosed around him and pulled himself back up, mustering all his strength to twist Freddy's hand and turn his own blades back on him. In the surprise of the attack, the demon succumbed to the blow, growling and shouting at the human as his claw pierced into his stomach. But the victory was short-lived. Freddy instantly retrieved his hand from his abdomen and swiped viciously at Devin, cutting deep into the man's face, scratching down his neck, and tearing the tanktop he wore.

"DEVIN!" I shouted, gathering my sword from the floor and lunging forward to catch my friend as he fell.

I had never tried pulling myself out of a dream before, but somehow in the intensity of the moment, I did just that. Waking up in my bed alone with my chest heaving, I rushed to the living room, switching on the light as I ran, and kneeling next to the couch.

"Shit shit shit!" I cursed, staring at Devin laying there, his face pouring crimson from the massive gashes across his face.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Mark," he choked out with a weak grin, the pain he was in obvious.

There was too much blood! I couldn't tell the full extent of the damage... "Wait here! I'll be right back!" I cried, shooting to my feet and jogging haphazardly out of the room.

I grabbed every clean towel out of my bathroom as well as alcohol and gauze before running back to Devin. He had closed his eyes, the hint of a smile he had shown faded as he lay still, trying to take deep breaths in and out. I threw the supplies on the ground where I was once more crouched and used a towel to begin blotting away the blood. However, as soon as I cleaned any of it away, more came rushing out.

"Flour."

"Huh?" I had barely made out the word he whispered.

"Put flour in the cuts...it will help it clot," Devin managed.

Without a second thought, I was on my feet and in the kitchen, pulling the last bit of flour I had out of the cabinet and rushing back to his side. I patted his wounds with the towel again, quickly sprinkling the white powder into the gashes which were just as large as I had first thought. He was right about it, too. After pouring tiny mountains of the stuff into the cuts, the blood started to thicken, not getting very far at all before the clumps of it stopped, leaving odd piles of red all over his face.

"I gotta take you to the hospital," I breathed.

"No," his eyes opened again, "I'll be alright.

"But you're going to need stitches and-" I protested, but he cut me short by putting two fingers over my lips.

"Stitches is just a fancy word for needle and thread," he chuckled, "I can do it myself."

Softly, my hand found his and removed it from my mouth. Lowering it onto the couch beside him, I rubbed his hand between mine comfortingly, "Are...are you sure?"

"Yeah," he was grinning again, "Bastard didn't hit my eyes so there's no need for surgery. As long as I keep them well cleaned, I won't get infection either. Besides," he gave a short laugh, "I really don't want to sit around the emergency room and try to explain my way around this one."

I smiled, "Especially since you just got out of the psych ward for fighting."

He laughed more heartily then, "Yeah."

I sat there at his side for almost the next hour, tending to his wounds- cleaning, patting, cleaning again and finally getting him to tell me how to sew him up so he didn't have to do anything except rest. I thought during that time how fortunate it was that I had wanted catfish not too long ago so I had the flour, and that I had poured out an old box of mine and found old tools including a sewing kit. Needle, thread, and flour weren't things I normally kept.

After that, I cleaned his face once more and found him a new shirt. I helped him keep the dirtied and damaged tank top from hitting his face as he took it off and likewise made sure the new piece of cloth didn't touch the wounds either as he put it on. I didn't expect Freddy to be back any time soon as he'd only returned at all to try and get me on his side again. This last encounter would sure be enough that he understood that wasn't going to happen, so why risk running into me again? Besides that, I felt confident that if I watched over Devin, focusing my energy into protecting his mind, he would be safe.

So as he finally fell back asleep, I sat there on the floor beside the couch, putting this intent on him as I continued to rub his hand and arm so that he knew I was there.


	19. Chapter 19: Finding Freddy

I didn't sleep the rest of the night. I was too worried about Devin so I kept an eye on him until he finally woke at about nine the next morning. At the time, I had been on my computer which I had moved from my bedroom to the small table in the kitchen area so I could do some research and still be close by. He immediately started sitting up on the couch and rubbing his eyes, apparently forgetting about the damage to his face.

"Ouch!" he hissed.

"Careful," I reminded as I made my way around the sofa and sat on the coffee table.

"Shit, I forgot about all this," he said, making a waving motion over his face.

"Yeah...how are you feeling?" I asked.

"Well," Devin looked at me with a solemn expression, "I need to pee."

As I blinked dumbly, he erupted into laughter. I, too, gradually chuckled, but any joviality was swept from me when I began observing the lacerations across him. Realizing that my work was pretty shoddy, I scowled, wishing that he would have seen a doctor. He must have seen the concern because he lifted his hand and snapped in front of my face to make me set my vision on him instead of his wounds.

"Injuries always look bad the first day," he smiled. "So what are we doing?"

"Um," my mind hadn't quite moved on from last night's fight and his resulting gashes.

"Well, we know you have the capability of killing Krueger if we can just get to him," Devin continued. "Maybe practicing your skills isn't necessary and we should just focus on finding him."

"The longer I wait around, the more damage he will do and the greater chance of him getting too powerful," I mused, "I think you're right. I just need to put all my attention on getting to him."

"Hey Mark," he spoke softly.

"Hm?"

"You're saying I now...you're not cutting me out, are you?" the man sitting in front of me seemed hurt.

"No, it's just," my eyes caught on his scars again, "I just don't want a repeat of last night."

I saw then the hint of a smile brush his lips as he gazed downward, "You don't have to worry about me. I've gotten into my fair share of scuffles."

"Yeah, but not with a demon," I pointed matter-of-factly.

Devin's sweet demeanor suddenly shifted to that of anger which showed in his eyes when he looked back up at me. His tone became colder though he never actually raised his voice, "I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. I don't _need_ anyone to worry about me. If I die, I die. Everyone fucking dies in the end."

I sat awkwardly in my spot and stared at him. It was my first taste of that temper he had talked about. Granted it wasn't much, I felt that if I said or did the wrong thing, I would just agitate him further. So, I simply sat with a dumb look on my face and waited for his next move. It didn't take long to happen either as it appeared he quickly realized that he had snapped at me.

"Sorry," he mumbled, eyes down again as he scratched his head.

"It's ok," I assured, "I didn't mean to insult you. I never doubted you could take care of yourself or anything it's just-"

"I know," he was smiling at me, softness completely returned, "I understand."

My lips curled to match his and I added, "I am known for worrying too much."

"That's funny seeing as they say the opposite about me," he laughed before turning to a gently pleading voice, "But in all seriousness, let me be part of this..."

I nodded slowly. Honestly, it was his decision. He knew the dangers and even though I technically could keep him out of it if I wanted to, I wasn't able to find it in me to deny him... Maybe it was just me being selfish, but I really did want him with me. He was the first real friend I had had in far too many years and I _needed_ his support. Did it make me a horrible person to allow this despite being able to ensure his safety by saying no?

"He goes after kids, right?" Devin continued our previous topic, "And he's in this town...so then we should start by getting information on the children that live here. That way you can try to jump into their dreams and find him that way."

"That is...a really good idea," I admitted.

"Heh, thanks," my friend grinned. "Guess go check out the high school first?"

I hesitated, "I just realized how creepy this is going to seem."

"What do you mean?" Devin tilted his head.

"Two men, adults, hanging around a school when they don't have any kids," I explained.

"Why do you always clarify that we're male in these things?" he asked.

"Well, it's different if you're a woman. It doesn't come off as inappropriate," I answered.

"That's fucking stupid," Devin spat, leaving me sitting there staring once more and wondering if I'd unintentionally pissed him off like before, but he quickly added, "I mean it's true, but it's stupid. I thought men and women were supposed to be equal and all, ya know?"

My brow furrowed, "Good point."

"Alright, let's-" he began speaking, abruptly cut off by a knock on the door.

"What the fuck?" I complained as I rose, "Nobody knows where I live besides my boss and my landlord. Rent isn't due and my boss has no reason to show up since he's never been here."

Devin shrugged and I did the same before finishing my walk to the apartment's entrance. Unlocking it, I took a breath and then carefully pulled it open. Holy shit. On the other side of the door was Maggie, wearing an uncertain expression until she laid eyes on me...then it changed to critical.

"Maggie?" I asked nervously, "W-what are you doing here?"

"I used to work with cops, Mark," she answered with a raised eyebrow. "I heard about the kids that have been killed here and went to a friend with your name. They pulled your address for me."

Shit. "Oh, ok, but...why-" I tried.

"Can I come in or...?" her voice was both serious and demeaning...she definitely wasn't here out of friendly concern.

"Um, of course," I turned to the side to let her in the door, "I have company..." I said oddly, but she was already coming in.

I watched as she stopped in front and to the side of the couch, vision on Devin who did nothing except smile politely. Then she turned around and looked at me where I stood still holding the door open. "Is it alright if I sit here?" she inquired, taking a seat in the single chair beside my sofa.

"Uh, yeah," I replied as I finally shut the door. "Um," I swallowed as I set sights on the living room and gestured at the man sitting there, "This is my friend, Devin. Devin, this is Maggie."

"Pleasure to meet you," Devin kept his smile, leaning back comfortably and patting on the cushion next to him as he turned his head to me.

Inhaling deeply, I left my spot at the door and slid by to sit beside him. He lifted his hand from the spot and threw his arm around the back of the couch behind me. I had barely registered that Maggie had also said something to the same effect of what he had and I wasn't sure if she was really aware that she had said it either because she was just staring at Devin. Furrowing my brow in confusion, I twisted my neck to glance back at him. Shit. It was the cuts on his face that had her attention.

"So you read about the murders too, then?" I prompted, eager for the tension to ease.

The woman slowly tore her focus from the man beside me, making no attempt at hiding the scrutiny I was under, "Yes, I did. I thought the similarities between them and Freddy's killings were unsettling," she stated plainly before cutting her eyes back to Devin, "What happened to your face?"

"Well, that's rude," Devin scoffed.

The normal thing at that point would have been for Maggie to apologize, but she didn't. Her hard gaze didn't even lessen though she did finally begin making shifting her eyes between the two of us obvious as she continued to wait for an answer. Devin never gave one to her even though I knew he didn't care so I got the feeling that he was leaving it up to me to reveal it or not.

"So, you assumed this had something to do with me?" I counter-inquired.

"Like I said, I've worked with cops...I've also worked at stopping Krueger...I can tell when something is going on," she glared.

I glanced nervously at my friend, hoping he'd offer some solution to the problem. He gave me a reassuring smile, yet said nothing. I turned my sight back to Maggie, trying to sound kind, "Look, I can tell you're upset and we don't really know each other...but I wish you'd just tell me what is on your mind."

"What's going on, Mark?" she returned flatly.

"Look, I know you were really nice to Mark when he was curious about your dad and all," Devin jumped to my defense then, his tone stern, "But you have no right to come into his home and demand things like this, basically threatening him and saying he's some kind of murderer and for the record," he leaned forward, pointing a finger at the woman, "You're not a cop."

Maggie kept her position, clearly not intimidated, "I'm not accusing him of anything and I'd much prefer talking to him and not you."

I felt Devin shift in his position, easing even closer to her, "Well you could have fooled me," he mocked, his voice becoming angry, "And he's already asked you to say what's on your mind. You're the one being a dick here, not me and certainly not him."

"Devin," I spoke softly, appreciating him helping me out, but not wanting him to get too worked up.

He responded by putting a hand on my knee. My eyes fell to it briefly before looking back up at Maggie who took notice of the gesture as well, "Ok, fine," she relented somewhat agitated, "I know Freddy is back and I know you had something to do with it. If the fact that the murders have happened in _your_ town hadn't been enough," she pointed at Devin, "The claw marks on your friend's face confirmed it."

I felt my hands sweating. I really didn't like confrontation and I had had no warning, no preparation before having to deal with her, "You're right," I answered, hanging my head in defeat, "I'm sorry. It was an acci-" for some reason, I couldn't make the blatant lie so I changed my words mid-sentence, "This wasn't meant to happen... We've been trying to fix it."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" she retorted.

"Same way you did," Devin was speaking again, "Except unlike you, Mark is exceptionally gifted in spiritual matters," he squinted at her as he said it, making it clear he was insulting her while reiterating my capability.

Maggie seemed to soften a minuscule amount then, enough to let me start relaxing, "How so?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but Devin beat me to it, sounding as if he was bragging about me, "Mark is adept at astral travel. He also learned within one dream how to properly create and draw a powerful weapon _and_ he can always change the setting of his dreams and knows how to get to others' dreams too." As nice as it felt to have someone act proud of me like that, I couldn't help but grimace a little at the exaggerations.

"So what's been keeping you from destroying him so far?" the woman's mind worked fast.

"Freddy won't come near me again," I sighed. "He tried to get me to work with him, basically saying he knew I could defeat him. So we've been trying to find him without him knowing."

"Which starts with us learning about the city kids," Devin added.

There was a pause during which Maggie's gaze moved between the two of us as if studying us and no doubt contemplating what we had told her. She had been leaned forward with her hands forming a triangle in her lap, but finally, she sat straight and crossed her arms, "I may be able to help with that."


	20. Chapter 20: It's a Date, Then

"Let's just hurry up and get rid of him before anyone else gets killed," Maggie stated coldly in response to my thanks as she dropped into the driver's side of her car and slammed the door shut.

I stood outside the apartment complex and watched until the woman's car was out of sight before I sighed. Devin placed a comforting hand on my shoulder that drew my attention. As I looked at him, he gave a smile. Before all the stuff with the ghosts and bringing Freddy back, I had felt that maybe I'd found a friend in Maggie. She was so kind and understanding and I wanted to meet up with her again. However, having her around now was just plain uncomfortable.

She hadn't pressed for any exact details on how or why I managed to let Freddy back into our world and I had guessed that was because she didn't see the point in it. Her last statement to me before she departed had proven that theory. Her only concern for the time being was getting rid of him and anything that wasn't necessary to that goal didn't warrant discussion. I exhaled again, more heavily this time and turned to go back inside the building.

My friend retrieved his hand and followed after me in silence. When we were finally back inside my apartment, he took a seat on the couch and waited patiently for me to sit as well, but when I took the chair where Maggie had been, he complained, "Why you gotta sit so far away? Come sit by me."

I slowly lifted my head and stared at his happy expression. My mind had been too focused on the whole Krueger issue to really think about it before, but it just caught up to the fact that Devin seemed to be flirting. Then again, maybe not. He had more or less said he hated the traditional expectations of men, who were typically meant to be somewhat stoic and definitely not too affectionate...at least not with each other. Everything he'd done that I'd taken as flirtatious was actually just things that two female friends would do with each other as purely platonic. So perhaps he was just being kind. He'd already said he didn't mean to come onto me or anything.

I rose and stepped over to the couch to sit with him, only to have him throw an arm around my shoulder and pull me so that I was leaned onto him, my head resting comfortably on his chest as he stroked the hair behind my ear. I didn't fight or question it, I simply closed my eyes and smiled. I kind of wished he was flirting with me. I had never been with a man yet my only real relationships with women had consisted of nothing except the endless cycle of getting high, coming down, searching for our next fix, and riding out the next high. Was that even a relationship or just mutual agony?

"So what do you think?" Devin's soft voice still sounded loudly in the quiet room.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"About Maggie's plan. Do you think it will work?" he clarified.

My lips fell straight as my thoughts returned to solemn matters. Maggie told us that Freddy usually worked within a group of friends, using the last survivor to jump into another group and then worked on killing them off. With that in mind, she set out to do some quick research in figuring out those who were close to the recent victims. The idea was that when I slept, I would bring Devin and Maggie in, jump to the dreams of the others to find Freddy, and when I did, use my powers to bring him back into my dream and keep him here there while my allies helped me pull him into the real world.

"It should...if I can actually get us into their dreams," I replied.

"I have faith in you," the man holding me said though when I bent my neck to gaze up at him, he wasn't smiling or even looking at me.

"Is something else on your mind?" I inquired.

"No," he looked down at me and smirked.

I could tell he was lying, but once more fearful of angering him, I didn't speak on it. Instead I just lay there, enjoying his company while I thought of something else to say, "It's past noon...did you want to go grab a bite to eat?"

He smirked again, "Are you asking me on a date?"

Even knowing it was a joke, I felt the urge to tell him in absolute sincerity, yes. I ended up deciding on an answer that could be taken either way so as to save face if he wasn't actually interested in me, "Only if you say yes."

His lips grew into a beam that stretched his entire face, "Then I guess you are."

My heart skipped a beat and I turned my face away so he couldn't see me blushing. I had never pictured myself as effeminate and had never been called it by anyone other than abusive adults when I was growing up, but in that moment, I definitely felt giddy like a school girl who had just been asked out by her crush. I lifted myself from Devin and stood, my motions slow to give me enough time to regain myself before looking at him again.

"Well, let's go then. Let me know what sounds good to you so I know where to drive," I said, making small steps toward the door, unsure of how to act if this was, in fact, a date.

Devin seemed to pick up on my ignorance easily because he smoothly removed himself from the couch, approached me, and slipped an arm around my waist, holding it loosely yet intimately. Like I said, he was a master extrovert...he definitely knew how to read and treat people. As strange as the idea of being in a gay relationship was to me, I wasn't embarrassed to walk through the halls and down to my car with him holding onto me like that. I don't know, maybe it was stupid, but I had begun craving his affection. Not in a sexual way either. It was just...nobody in my entire life had ever been so loving toward me...so genuinely warm.

I had thought Maggie was the first person to be truthful about caring for me, but recent events taught me otherwise. I'm sure she was a nice person and was being kind to me when I visited her that day. However, when she even just thought I may have fucked up and made a mistake, she completely turned. Devin, on the other hand, had not. He met me in a fucking psychiatric hospital and always gave me the benefit of the doubt. Even knowing I had intentionally brought a serial killer back from the dead, he hadn't judged me and furthermore had continued to support me...our relationship having never changed in the slightest.

When I put my hand on the door of my car, he reached out and opened it for me, making sure I got in before walking around to the passenger side and loading in himself. Once inside, he had told me that a burger with fries felt like it would hit the spot nicely, so I had then made our way to the Outback Steakhouse. I guess I could have just gone to McDonald's or any one of the many, cheaper places that served burgers, but I couldn't justify being an adult and taking someone on a first date like that unless there was no way to afford anything else. And thankfully, my last paycheck had deposited at midnight so I had enough.

"Oh wow, I haven't been to one of these in years," he said as we pulled into the restaurant parking lot.

"Is it bad? Should we go somewhere else?" my words were rushed and my demeanor fell.

"No, not at all," Devin laughed, "I love this place."

Attitude positive again, I hopped out of the vehicle and we made our way inside. We ended up having to wait for about half an hour to be seated since we had come in during the lunch rush without a reservation. I honestly didn't mind though. I just liked the company and the distraction from taking down the dream demon. I noticed at one point, a little girl staring at Devin who simply smiled and said hello before putting his gaze elsewhere. She couldn't have been more than five or six and eventually her mother reprimanded her for being rude, the woman's sight catching momentarily on the same thing that her daughter had been fascinated with...the gashes on Devin's face that had been haphazardly sewn shut.

It took me a minute to realize that was what was going on and the man instantly had my concern again. It sent me to wondering if he was bothered at all about how the cuts would leave huge scars and probably attract a lot more negative attention. I felt like it wasn't a worry to him yet at the same time, I had come to know it wasn't always easy to gauge what did and did not frustrate him. Those thoughts were soon interrupted when we were shown to a booth. We both ended up ordering cheese burgers with steak fries and a coke.

The conversation, as usual, was largely carried by Devin, though I did manage to speak a lot more than during our previous meals together...albeit a lot of what I said turned into nervous rambling upon remembering that I was not only on a romantic encounter, but one with somebody, a man, who made inspired feelings like I had never had before. It was like the two of us had known each other for so long even though we just met. His very presence was soothing and he seemed to understand me on a level I didn't know was possible.

When the meal was over, my stomach actually fell and my mind began searching for ways to extend our little date. I did need to get some food for the house to make it until my next pay, but my thoughts kept returning to spoiling Devin with the rest of the money I did have. He needed clothes, for one. I also didn't like the idea of him having to sleep on the couch all the time so I felt the need to invest in a mattress or a futon.

"Hey Mark?" Devin's voice broke me from contemplation just as we approached my car again.

I looked up to see his vision resting on something on the other side of me so I followed his gaze to the empty lot next to the restaurant. Standing there was Emma and the rest of her gothic ghost posse. _Now what?_ I glanced over to my partner and shrugged, pushing my door closed again before stepping away from the vehicle and walking toward the teens. I soon felt Devin skip up to my side to accompany me.

"What do you want?" I demanded of the group the moment we were close enough for them to hear.

"Any luck with Freddy?" the girl placed hands on her hips confidently, but her eyes told a different story.

"Actually, yeah," I rose an eyebrow, "What's it to you?"

Emma glanced over to Devin and then back to me, "Look, Mark, I'm sorry for going off on you like that. You're right...this is my fault."

Although my stance softened slightly, it didn't show in my voice, "It's fine... Is that all you wanted?"

The girl blinked, lips parting for a second and then shutting back as if she decided not to speak a certain thought. Damian crept his way closer to us at her side, staring at my date who kept the ghost's glare without falter. Todd and Chris had made themselves comfortable lounging on the mound of dirt on site, playful grins on their faces.

"We haven't made any progress," Emma finally admitted.

"And _now_ you want Mark's help?" Devin scoffed, "You got a lot of nerve."

I cut my eyes to the man defending me. I probably should have told him not to worry about it, but he was spot on. It was quite the audacious move to ask for assistance after how they'd treated me. What, did she think apologizing would get me on her side again? I pursed my lips. Honestly if it hadn't been for Devin, I likely would have just accepted the apology and fallen back in line with the ghosts.

"Hey, I made a mistake and am trying to fix it, just like you!" the girl growled and pointed at me.

"You're only here because you need Mark, not because you're actually sorry!" Devin spat back, getting in Emma's face only to have Damian step forward to cut between them.

"You need to back off, pal," the trench coat-clad boy warned as the baseball bat appeared in his hand.

I suddenly thought I heard whispering behind us so I twisted to see that there were indeed a handful of people back at the restaurant huddling around each other and talking, their eyes on us... I wasn't sure if they actually saw the ghosts or just the two of us. I knew it was possible that Devin only saw them by proxy. So it could looked like either the two of us were fighting or we'd lost our damn minds and were yelling at air.

"Come on, let's go," I whispered to Devin, shooting a criticizing look at Emma as I spun around and started walking off. The man with me lingered a moment longer, then made a few paces backward before finally turning and walking alongside me.


	21. Chapter 21: Uncertainty

We didn't hear from Maggie or the ghosts the rest of the day, giving us a nice reprieve from the grave issues in life. When we boarded the car, I said something about needing to find Devin some clothes to which he had replied by asking if I didn't like him wearing mine. _Of course I didn't mind_ , I had told himwhich he followed up by saying, _Alright, then let me borrow them until I start working and can buy my own._ I relented easily as I kind of liked the idea of him using my wardrobe...and also, we really did need food.

Because of my stay in the ward, this last paycheck was less than usual and there were now two mouths to feed for another week. If it had just been me, I could have made due with a few packs of ramen and a gallon of milk, but I really didn't want to stretch Devin thin especially considering his huge appetite. My own appetite was starting to come back as well. So we had gone to the grocery store and picked up a lot of canned food, hot dogs, pasta, a bag of potatoes...just a lot of cheap yet filling stuff. We made it back to the apartment around four pm and immediately started contemplating what to do with the rest of the evening.

"You know, I'm pretty easy-going," Devin laughed as he pulled another can of chili out of the plastic shopping bag and placed it in the cabinet, "You don't have to worry about keeping me entertained. I just appreciate you letting me stay here...feeding me and all."

"Sorry," I scratched the back of my neck, "I guess I'm not used to having guests is all."

"Well, I mean hopefully your boss will hire me so I'll have a job and can pay rent," he continued, "That way you don't feel so obligated. I mean," he rotated to set sights on me, "If you still don't mind being roommates."

"Not at all. I just wish-" I stopped abruptly, realizing I was about to finish by saying _you didn't have to sleep on the couch_. My thought was that I wished there was another bedroom in the apartment, but in light of recent events, was afraid that it would be taken as an invitation to sleep in my bed with me and I hadn't quite thought about going that far with Devin yet.

"What's wrong?" he cocked his head to the side in confusion as he set the grocery bag in his hand back on the counter.

I shook my head and smiled, "I was just thinking it might be a good idea to upgrade to a two bedroom apartment. Wouldn't feel right to charge rent when you're just sleeping on the sofa."

Devin grinned deviously, making me feel as if he might have guessed what other thoughts about our sleeping arrangements had crossed my mind. He turned back around and kept unloading the food, "Makes sense, especially if that means you're more comfortable."

It was no doubt bait for me to reveal more so I forced myself not to speak at all for a while to be sure I didn't bring up a topic that I wasn't yet ready for. Devin didn't push either. He and I simply finished stocking the cabinets and made our way back to the living room to watch TV. After about an hour or so, though, yelling from next door interrupted us. My first instinct was to just turn the volume up on the television as living in cheap complexes had made me desensitized to such things and dealing with slumlords taught me that reporting did no good. However, Devin had a different approach...he grabbed the remote before I could and lowered its sound.

"This happens all the time," I assured him, "Just ignore it."

He cut his eyes at me, "What do you think they're fighting about? All I've heard is cunt this and bitch that."

"I don't know. I really don't care," I sighed and reached for the remote, which he simply moved out of my way. "Dev-" I started to complain, cut short by the voices in the apartment next to us getting even louder as they stepped out into the hall.

"YOU SHOULD BE! IT'S YOUR OWN GODDAMN FAULT!" the man growled at the woman who was sobbing loudly.

Devin stood up from the couch and sauntered determinedly up to my door and began opening it. I tried calling his name again, but he ignored me.

"The fuck you lookin' at, boy?" the man's attention flew to Devin the moment the door was open.

Jesus fucking Christ. I jumped up from my seat and ran after my friend, placing hands on his shoulders and gently tugging, "Please just leave it alone," I pleaded.

I was just barely able to see a woman on the other side of my neighbor, crouched down and picking up what looked to be dresses that could only fit a small child. Tears were streaming down her face and she hadn't taken any notice of us at all.

"Is this asshole hurting you?" Devin peered around the man that was huffing in front of him and asked the woman.

"It wasn't my fault!" the woman cried, finally looking up with a soaked face as she claimed the last article of clothing. "I had just checked on her! The house was locked! The windows were locked!"

"You fucking bitch!" the man was facing her and belting again, "If you hadn't kicked me out, I would have been there to protect her!"

Just as the man took a forceful step closer to what I presumed was his ex, Devin reached out and took a firm hold of the angry father's arms and held him back. My friend was instantly met with a struggle as the man's rage shifted direction from the woman and to the stranger that was holding him. The guy was larger and older than Devin yet Devin was apparently stronger. The two spun around in an uneven circle, rocking back and forth as each tried to keep their sway over the other.

I found myself backpedaling, not wanting to be part of the fight and at the same time wanting to help. I looked past them to see that the mother had risen from the floor and was on her way to the stairs, occasionally glancing back...she was still sobbing. My sights found the two other men again. "Devin! She's gone, just leave him alone."

The energy behind his eyes burned of anger and adrenaline as he cut them back at me, obviously hoping for a fight. I only made sure my eyes were sad and begging instead of making him feel in any way that I was ordering him around as surely that would just increase his fury. He finally grunted, his eyes slitting while he simultaneously relented by letting go of the man and shoving him away. The guy tried to move back toward Devin who simply stopped him altogether by landing a punch straight into his cheek. It was forceful enough to cause the man to lose his balance and hit the wall next to him, almost falling onto his ass.

"Calm the fuck down," Devin growled, pointing at the man for a few moments before finally spinning around to throw a hand over my shoulder and scoot the two of us back inside.

Only after we were safely behind a locked door did I pull away from his friendly hold and plop myself onto the couch, my posture sullen.

"What's wrong?" he asked, keeping the same attitude he had had during handling the arguing neighbors as he resumed his position next to me.

 _What's wrong?_ I repeated mockingly in my mind yet outwardly, only shook my head. Besides the fact he interjected himself into a fight needlessly, he had completely ignored anything I'd said...he hadn't take me into account. And on top of that, I had realized what that couple was fighting about...they were parents of one of the children Freddy had murdered...one of the children who had only died because of me.

"Mark?" his voice became hushed as he put a hand on my shoulder and rubbed it.

I immediately rose, tearing from the kind gesture and began walking to my bedroom, "I don't feel like this right now."

I actually expected him to rush after me, spin me around and say something to smooth things over, but without fuss, I made it to my mattress and hurled myself on top of it. Part of me was glad he didn't do anything to stop me so I could have time to think and another part wished he had...and after a bit of consideration, I realized that second portion was my weak side...the side that had fallen so easily for him and the side that had longed for love and for understanding my entire life. But that wasn't what was important here, was it? Children were dying. Innocence was being stolen, destroyed, because I had been stupid in my selfishness. Why was I letting him distract me from fixing my horrendous mistake? That fatal flaw. No, I couldn't do this. If there was something for me with Devin, it would have to wait. For now, Krueger was the only man who'd have my focus.

I don't know at what time it happened, but I wound up in slumber after tiring intervals of forcing my thoughts away from Devin, listening for any movement in the other rooms, and numbing my own feelings. I should have used my free time in the dream realm to do something that would help bring Freddy down when I was finally able to find him, but instead of trying to practice jumping into the unconscious thoughts of others, I once more was trapped inside my own memory. I knew I was there and yet I couldn't really remember what I had seen. I felt pain and fear...I sensed my mother and my foster parents were amidst the confusing agony, yet as I awoke, feeling nothing but dread and terror, I hadn't a good recollection of what I experienced during the nightmare. All I knew is that I woke with landing a punch in Devin's throat like I had been fighting him in my sleep.

"Mark! Mark!" the man called desperately, his voice having weakened from my blow, but quickly regaining its strength.

I inhaled sharply after the feeling of having my breath knocked out of me passed. My eyes shot open and I could see Devin over me, a knee on other side of my thighs as he held me down by my wrists. I looked up at him, gasping for air, vision darting from him to the room around us in a fit of paranoia.

"Mark, try to breathe. Just breathe; it's ok," the man on top of me soothed through the obvious disturbance in his own person. When he saw that I was with him- understanding his words and trying to calm myself, he let go of my arms and crawled off to sit beside me on the bed.

"What-" I breathed, pulling myself into a seated position and resting my sight on him again.

"I don't know, man," his brow furrowed in concern, "I was in the living room and heard you groaning. I came to the door and asked if you were ok, but you didn't say anything. Looked like you were asleep. I got closer to you and you screamed and started thrashing about like you were having a seizure or something. I was almost going to call the hospital until you sat up and punched me..."

"I-" I shook my head, "I'm sorry...I...I know I've had really bad nightmares and sleep paralysis, but I don't remember anything..."

"Hey," he smiled reassuringly, ducking his head to prompt me to look at him, "It's ok. Are you ok?"

I nodded slowly even though I wasn't really sure that I was.

"That's good..." his grin fell, "I'm sorry about earlier...I know I should have listened to you...It's just..."

"It's ok," I returned, "We both have our issues. What's important is right now, right?"

Staring blankly at my smiling face, he blinked once before leaning in quickly and planting his lips on top of mine.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Giving a few more sweet moments with Mark and Devin before some bad shit happens *cue suspenseful music* Oh, but what is going to happen? Hm... *author laughs sadistically***


	22. Chapter 22: Mission Impossible?

The kiss caught me off guard and I didn't know how to react other than to pull away, my mind instantly assuming that Devin would be hurt that I didn't reciprocate. However, as I looked at him, he just smiled, his eyes soft, expression pleased. Tilting my head to the side and studying him, I slowly realized how much he truly did understand things... He wasn't bothered because he knew it was only because of how sudden and new to me it was, not that I didn't care for him. Something about seeing that erased any confusion or fear and I threw myself back on him, pushing my lips tightly against his.

Kissing a man wasn't the same as kissing a woman. His skin was tougher, not as soft as a female and as much as that sounded like a bad thing, it wasn't. There was comfort in the roughness of his flesh...something that said _I can protect you_ while the feeling of his firm hand on my waist spoke of fearlessness in loving me. Our eyes closed as we sucked on each other's lips, tugging them slightly. I rested my hands on the top of his hips and let his own grasp at my waist, then track gently upwards beneath my shirt, tickling my skin.

"Wait," I breathed, opening my vision, "I think we should-"

Devin smirked and relaxed in his spot, carefully retreating his hands from my body, "You want to go slow. I understand."

"Of course you do," I muttered with a grin.

"Well, it's getting late," he observed, "Any idea on when Maggie will contact us?"

I inhaled, "Since it wasn't today, I have no doubt she'll figure something out tomorrow. I don't imagine it would take much time to get the information she's looking for."

"Yeah, me neither," Devin agreed, "Well, I'm going to turn in as there's no telling what we'll be up against tomorrow. Gotta catch some Zs," he winked at me while he stood and walked toward the door.

"Hey!" my voice squeaked when he reached the exit, not wanting him to leave.

"Yeah?" the man turned around to face me.

"I...um..." I scratched my cheek and glanced away awkwardly. "The bed's more comfortable than the couch. That thing is ancient. I mean if you want to-"

Before I could ramble any further, I felt Devin sit back down beside me, putting a finger under my chin and lifting it, "That sounds nice."

I smiled, almost giggling as he leaned forward to peck me on the lips one more time. Immediately afterward, he scooted closer to the top of the bed and pulled the covers away to help ease the both of us under them at the same time. Once we were comfortable beneath the blanket, he slid close behind me, fitting his body snug with the curves of mine and putting an arm around me to finish the cuddling position. I lay there in his sweet hold, enjoying the intimacy of hugging him...sharing my bed with him... Nothing else was said, we simply laid together in the dimly lit room, relaxing and waiting...

 _Buurrrringg! Buuurrrinng!_

I don't know at what point we finally fell asleep, but we were both awoken to the sound of the traditional ringing alarm of my phone going off. Groggily, I reached toward the table next to my bed, feeling Devin shift in response behind me which caused me to smile at remembering the tender moments we had recently shared. I grabbed the phone and registered both the time and the caller. It was nine-thirty in the morning already?

"Hey, Maggie," I answered the device.

"Mark, I think I know where Freddy is going to strike next. Can I come over?" she spoke in a no-nonsense manner.

"Um, of course," I answered.

"Be about ten minutes," the woman informed me right before clicking the connection off.

I lifted my brow, widening my eyes and shrugging. Ok, then. As I placed the phone back on the nightstand, Devin's voice piped, "What's up?"

I twisted where I sat on the bed to see he was laying on his back, arms crossed behind his head which was tilted just enough that his eyes and smile were on me.

"Maggie's coming over. She's got something," I told him as I threw the covers off of me and took to my feet.

Just as soon as they hit the floor, though, Devin called me back to the bed, "Can you come here a second, Mark?"

I looked his way, then walked around the bed to be on his side of it, "What is-"

I was cut short by the man's hands suddenly on my arms, pulling me down so that he could kiss me again. The moment it began, it ended as he released by pushing me back into my straightened position. "Good morning," he smirked.

I couldn't help a chuckle, "Good morning. Now get up. She'll be here soon."

It was more like fifteen minutes before she finally showed, giving us enough time to make sure we didn't smell, that our clothes were clean, and then pop open a can of chili and heat up some hot dogs. We were munching this untypical breakfast when the knock came and I let Maggie inside. She didn't waste any time with pleasantries and got directly to the point.

"There was another murder early this morning. A young girl named Alyson. Her twin, Tabbitha, was injured, but survived," Maggie pulled a picture of two pre-teen girls out of her purse and handed it to me, "She's in the hospital, about to undergo surgery. If we act now, we may be able to catch Freddy trying to finish the job."

I stared at the photo in my hand. The sisters were identical save for the fact that one of them had their hair dyed pink and the other was brunette. Also, the one with dark hair dressed in masculine clothes while the pink-headed girl wore a dress. My eyes darted back and forth between them. One of them had died...the other was about to as well if I couldn't stop Krueger in time.

"We just woke up," I mused, gaze still downward, "Do you have any ideas for getting me back to sleep soon?"

The woman standing in front of me was once more reaching into her purse. This time, she pulled out a prescription bottle and shook its contents, "Seroquel. This will knock you out, but you need to take it now."

I took the bottle from her and scanned its label. _Take 1-2 pills with food every night before bed._ I twisted the cap off and poured two tablets into my hand, only to have Maggie reach forward and tap the bottom of the container, causing two more full doses to fall out, "Oh, okay," I mumbled, "Six of them, then?"

"Hold on," Devin left his food then to near us, "Is that safe? That shit is pretty potent."

"They're only fifty milligram tablets," Maggie raised an eyebrow, "He'll pass out easily, but he'll be perfectly fine...you both will."

I went from looking at the medicine in my hand to staring at Devin. Somehow I felt the need for him to okay my consumption of the pills before moving forward. Apparently catching on that I was waiting for him to say something, he sighed and nodded, saying _alright_ under his breath. I dunked the pills into my mouth and strolled back to the table Devin was leaning on to grab my soda, simultaneously putting the picture down and taking a swig.

"Which one is Tabbitha?" Devin had began retrieving his own dose while looking at the twins' portrait.

"Pink hair," Maggie answered plainly though her voice reflected sorrow.

"What about you?" I asked, taking one more drink before handing the can off to my friend.

"I have a talent for deep meditation that will send me to the dream world as I wish," the woman answered. "But the two of you better hurry and lie down."

Devin and I exchanged glances and then he started leading the way back to the bedroom. Maggie followed us and it all felt so awkward despite her business-centered demeanor. Devin was the first to make himself comfortable, motioning me onto the mattress with him and ensuring that I, too, was situated. Our female companion simply sat in the chair at my desk and watched us. I almost said something about it feeling odd to have her staring like that, but then I thought better of it, realizing she wouldn't appreciate the complaint about my comfort when kids were being hunted down out there. So instead, I simply laid back and closed my eyes.

I had been on mood stabilizers, anti-depressants, and other such medications that made me groggy but this Seroquel was indeed quite strong. It hadn't even been twenty minutes when I began feeling woozy and soon after that, my body began getting weaker, falling into sleep. Although I woke on the other side without Devin or Maggie at first, my allies slowly appeared, no doubt having fallen asleep at a different rate than me.

"Alright, Mark, you're on," said the woman still seated in the chair at the end of my bed.

I glanced over at my side to Devin, who gave a reassuring smile and shoulder rub, "You've got this."

Inhaling deeply and slowly exhaling, I nodded to the man before turning to throw my legs off the side of the mattress and stand. I walked to the bedroom door and stopped, closing my eyes and thinking about the pink haired girl in the photograph and about the hospital where she was...how the surgery room looked. After a few moments of silence, my eyes came open and I reached out for the door handle and twisted it. I was greeted with a bright white light which I instantly stepped into.

The site on the other side was familiar yet wasn't the same as what I knew. The hospital walls were smeared with grime, the once white floors matched their filth. The lights were flickering on and off while some of their fixtures were dangling from the ceiling, emitting sparks from cracked wires. It was quiet and empty within the walls except for the occasional screeching of rusty gurney wheels as I passed them on my way to locate Freddy. I didn't draw my sword or otherwise try to use my powers.

For the time being, my mission was stealth. I couldn't let the demon know that I was coming for him lest he should flee or have sufficient time to gain the upper hand. That was the same reasoning that I went alone instead of bringing Maggie and Devin into his dreamscape. The more people there, the more likely he would pick up on the unwanted presences. So I stepped quietly through the hospital until the sound of a girl screaming rang out, followed by maniacal laughter I could recognize anywhere.

"Aww what's the matter, little girl? Don't you want to play with Freddy?" Krueger's raspy voice cackled.

"Please! Leave me alone!" Tabbitha cried.

Carefully ducking through the corridor I was in, I made my way to the source of the voices, finally locating the two around the corner of the floor's nurses' station. The young girl was on the floor, arms out to the side with hands bracing her body as she desperately tried crawling backwards to get away from her attacker. Freddy, on the other hand, stood about four feet from her, claw out to the side with its blades extended as he relished in the poor child's fear. I made silent steps until I turned the same corner to sneak up behind Freddy before drawing my sword to plunge into his back, but just as I came into her view, Tabbitha's eyes darted from the demon to me which alerted him to my presence.

"Hm..." Krueger groaned, angry at having his attention taken away from his prey in order to deal with me. "Well, if it isn't my old buddy, Mark," he purred.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Alyson Tabbitha is the name of a cosplay model. No, I take that back. She's not a cosplayer, she's a goddamn shapeshifter! Honestly, go check her facebook page out.**

 **Seroquel is an antipsychotic used to treat bipolar, schizophrenia, and depression, but it is also used as a sleep aid due to its sedative properties.**


	23. Chapter 23: One for the Team

Cover blown, I simply drew my sword, igniting it as I jumped toward my opponent. I didn't plan on wasting any time making conversation with him and instead focused on my assault. The demon grabbed hold of my blade with both of his hands as if it were nothing yet as soon as the flame began to burn him, he pushed himself away and growled. He then slung his claw to the side before lunging at me and swiping full force. I caught the knives, but his strength had grown and it was far too difficult to fend him off. I ended up doing the same thing he had and pushed myself away from his attack.

"You know, buddy," he cooed, "There's not really much sense in you fighting me. You can already tell that."

While his increased power did have me on edge, I wasn't about to give up and not put my all into this fight. I shot forward again, swinging my sword viciously back and forth, desperate to land a blow. The ferocity of my attack seemed to piss him off and he actually fell victim to one swipe when his own strike missed its parry and grazed my shoulder instead. He fell back, looking down at his torn and charred sweater, patting the tiny flame away as blood fell from the gash in his chest. I moved forward to hit him more, but he vanished and then reappeared a bit further away from me to show that his wound was entirely healed.

"Shit!" I cursed in a whisper.

"AHAHAH!" the demon laughed, "You see, I know how to fully control my abilities and you have given me time to gather the strength needed to fuel them. Face it, I'm just too far ahead of you."

"HAH!" I yelled, "Who do you think you're fooling? It wasn't but recently you were looking for me to stop chasing you because you couldn't beat me."

The demon's lips curled, "That may be, but as it stands, _you_ haven't improved since then, but have allowed me time to gather my strength...meaning currently...you're _my_ bitch!"

I glared at the demon as he teleported directly in front of my face, grabbing onto my shoulders and jutting his knee into my stomach before my mind was able to think enough to gather my own weapon. I cowered back, doing my best not to double over from the force as I desperately threw my blade onto him to set him afire. Once more, he growled, spinning unearthly fast several times until the flames on his clothes died. My eyes fell to the wound on my shoulder as he did this. If he could heal himself, then maybe...

I focused my will onto sealing the the small gashes next to my neck, but to no avail. Shit. If he could regenerate after what would normally be a fatal blow and I couldn't even fix a few scratches, then maybe I was at a disadvantage... Then a thought struck me. I had already put together that he was more powerful within his own domain...what if that meant I _could_ heal if I were inside my dream instead? Perhaps then, since I was gifted in this arena, he would even find it more difficult to fix his wounds there.

I definitely had to get him back to where Maggie and Devin were. The question was if I should bring them here first or if they would tempt Freddy to just leave. I wasn't given much time to think on it, though, as he was once more upon me. The demon lunged in my direction, swiping his claw furiously. I blocked two blows, twisting and blocking three more times when he vanished and reappeared behind me. The battle kept going on like that until I finally realized that we weren't going to get anywhere. Even if he wasn't stronger than me, we were definitely on even ground right here, right now and the constant focus on fending off his blows were making it so I couldn't even try to relocate us.

My brain formulated a new plan. If I could heal myself in my personal world...then all I needed was enough time to transport the two of us. If I let him land an attack so that I could grab onto him and do this...then I could repair while Maggie pulled Freddy out into the real world. He was as easy to kill as a human there, so she would be able to finish the job herself if I couldn't wake up in time to help. Putting fierce eyes on my opponent, I readied myself to take his next hit while pretending to have been battling as normal so I didn't raise suspicion.

When I lifted my sword above my head as if to throw a downward blow, Freddy rammed each of his steel blades into my abdomen simultaneously. Somehow I hadn't expected it to hurt as badly as it did. I thought that being inside a dream, the feeling would be numb, but instead, I almost felt like vomiting when his claws sunk into my flesh, piercing my organs beneath. Blood began dripping from my mouth yet I was able to throw my arms around him, digging my nails into his skin while focusing all my intent on returning to my dream apartment.

Freddy didn't seem to catch on to any of it until I started using all of my strength to push him into the door at our side. It was only then that his evil laughter ceased, yet he wasn't able to keep me from finishing my goal. We quickly fell through the hospital door and landed on the floor of my bedroom, my eyes catching onto Maggie and Devin as they jumped up from their seats.

"You smart little bitch!" Freddy growled half-angrily and half-amused, lifting himself up off of my body and placing his sight on his daughter, "Aw did someone miss Daddy?"

"Just missed how good it felt to kill you," I heard Maggie glint.

I could only somewhat keep an eye on the battle after that. The wound in my stomach was still forcing agonizing pain on my while I tried to use my power to stop the bleeding and reverse the damage. I shifted between staring at my abdomen and closing my eyes, all the while focusing on the task. However, a worried shout drew my attention back to what was happening around me.

"MARK! KEEP HIM HERE!" Maggie cried out, having been thrown against the wall though she was regaining herself to approach her demented father again.

Looking afterward to the demon from my spot laying on the ground, I saw that his form was fading. SHIT! I removed everything in me from healing my body and instead fought with my mind to make Krueger unable to leave. I was scared that I'd fail, but gradually his figure became solid, allowing Devin to whack him over the head with my lamp so Maggie could throw her arms around him. I watched the two suddenly vanish from the room, causing Devin to step around, awkwardly searching to make sure it was no trick.

"Looks like she got him out," he came close to me with a smile that faded upon seeing me still laying on the floor, clutching onto my abdomen which continued to pour crimson.

"Shit, Mark! SHIT!" the man dropped to the ground beside me, his arms hovering over my body as his brain contemplated what to do, "Fucking shit!"

"It's ok," I choked out, unintentionally spitting red as I did so, "If I can just focus...I should be able to heal myself just like he can."

"What do I do?" Devin demanded, his eyes lit with concern, his entire face sickly pale trying to process his own fear about the gravity of my state.

"Just, sh..." I closed my eyes, reaching out and taking hold of his hand.

Doing my best to ignore the burning, stabbing pain, I gathered every bit of my inner energy and sent it to my stomach, silently ordering it to fix the damage. After a few moments without feeling change, my mind instinctively sought Devin's energy out, as if I could tap into the extra will power and achieve my goal. I mustered all of my strength, all of my imagination, and all of the intent I knew was within my friend, and aimed it toward this one desire. Slowly, the hurt in my body eased and I knew that it was working...but I was wrong.

As I tried to open my eyes to show Devin that I was right and everything was fine, I realized I was hardly capable of lifting my lids. My vision settled first on the man who was holding our hands above my chest, tears streaming down his cheeks...then I looked down at my body. The injury was the same. I could see torn tissue, the shining blood that was starting to dry... The pain wasn't ceasing because I was getting better...my body was only growing numb as death neared.

My gaze went to Devin again, "Please," I begged, "You have to get out and make sure Freddy is dead."

"I-I can't," he sobbed, "I need you. I-I-" his eyes started scanning the room, "There has to be something I can do to save-"

"Sh..." I managed a small smile, "Please...if I'm going to die, don't let him get away...don't let me die in vain."

The man swallowed hard as I could see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. He then blinked several times, drops of moisture flinging from his face with the movement. "Ok," he relented, his face scrunching as he began to sob loudly with his next words, "I promise you."

Devin leaned down, placing gentle lips onto mine. I forced my body to kiss him back despite how quickly I was losing the power to move at all, "I love you," I whispered as his tears stained my face.

The sobs only grew more intense then and he had completely lowered himself onto me, letting his chest rest on mine as his arms reached around my head and hugged me tightly, "I love you too, Mark," he cried.

Sound, touch, sight...it had all grown so weak and I knew I wouldn't last much longer. Closing my eyes, I took in a final breath and with it, set all my energy and intent on pushing Devin out of the dream world. At that moment, there was no doubt in my mind that I would succeed. Just before my body stopped moving...stopped functioning altogether, I watched Devin disappear from in front of me, taking his comforting embrace with him... Once again, I was alone...and this time...I would remain that way...forever.


	24. Chapter 24: Devin

Fighting my instinct to stay at Mark's side and figure out something- anything- to help him, I jumped from the bed as soon as I was thrown back into the real world and made my way toward the window where Maggie was wrestling with a more human looking Freddy Krueger. I placed my hands on the demon's shoulders in an attempt to pull him off of the woman, but instead he simply bucked back, causing me to lose my grip.

"DEVIN! In my purse, there's a gun!" Maggie yelled as she continued her struggle.

I looked from the two to the chair where she had been when we all fell asleep. Not seeing her bag by it, my eyes trailed the floor until I found where it lay a few feet off as if she had accidentally dropped it trying to get to Freddy. Rushing forward, I quickly reached inside the purse and easily found the small pistol. As I pulled it out to examine, I wondered how effective it would be due to its compact design.

"DEVIN!" the woman called my name more intently.

Removing my thoughts from the weapon instantly, I stepped determinedly back toward them with my arm straight out, aiming the gun as I cocked it. I didn't need any further instruction. The moment Maggie twisted so that her father's back was to me, I open-fired. The first shot rang out, thudding into Krueger's spine, making him release a screech. But I didn't stop shooting. Two, three, four, and five bullets flew from the barrel, each ripping through his sweater and sinking into his flesh.

I tried to fire once more, but the pistol simply clicked, having emptied its clip. Freddy fell to his knees then, his daughter still standing on the other side, simply watching as he died. However, I wasn't finished with him. I stomped forward, rotating the metal in my hand so that the butt was exposed. Upon reaching him, I reared my arm above my head and let it fall full-force so that the heaviest part of the weapon struck his temple. A string of blood leapt from his head with the blow and his eyes cut back at me as I readied to hit him again. With each strike, more red sputtered from the spot in his forehead which was now concave, his skull having fractured under the intensity of the attack. Even as he fell to the ground, eyes void of life, I couldn't stop beating him, my anger growing as my mind realized he was no longer feeling the pain.

"DEVIN! DEVIN!" Maggie cried out, suddenly beside me and grabbing onto my arms to get me to stop.

Through her attempt, I kept fighting, landing two more blows before I finally dropped the weapon and fell to the ground myself...crying out in agony, "YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH! YOU KILLED HIM!" I lifted my bare fists, letting them crash down onto Krueger's corpse in a pathetic try to hurt him more. "You killed him!" I sobbed.

"Devin," Maggie's voice had grown quiet, "Get up, we need to figure out our story before the police show up."

"I don't fucking care!" I growled at her. "Just get out of here if you want to and leave me alone."

"I can't let you take on the blame for this by yourself," she insisted.

Her nobility pissed me off and, grabbing the pistol I had dropped, I rose from my cowered position over the body of the man that killed my love. Turning around, I stomped toward her with the gun aimed even though I knew it was out of ammo, "I SAID LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"

"Devin..." she tried again.

"NOW! FUCKING GO YOU FUCKING CUNT!" my voice was louder than it had been in quite some time, the rage I was feeling unlike anything I'd ever experienced...even with my past problems.

Her vision lingered a moment longer, watching quietly as several tears fell from my drenched face before she finally reached out and placed her hand on the barrel of the pistol I held. She calmly began pulling at it and at first, I resisted, but eventually allowed her to take her weapon back. I threw my hands onto my head, slicking my hair back as I spun to look upon Freddy's body. After taking in that he still lie there, motionless, I ran over to the bed and crawled into it, slowly scooting until I lay next to Mark.

Staring down at his face where his eyes remain closed, I cupped one hand around one of his cheek while lifting a finger on the other to trace his facial features and jawline while whispering his name, "Mark...I'm so sorry...I should have been there for you. I should have been strong enough to protect you... Please forgive me."

The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance.

"Devin," Maggie's soft voice called again. "They're coming. Here's the story..."

My mind was a complete haze after that, barely registering the pounding on the apartment door...the subsequent stomping through the hall...and the yells of armed officers telling the two of us survivors to get on the ground. At first, I ignored them, unable to leave Mark's side. However, I was soon met with a man tugging me violently off of the mattress before a second assisted him in shoving me face-first onto the floor while they handcuffed me. Maggie and I were both escorted off the property and read our rights on the way to the police station, where we were kept separate the entire time as was their procedure to avoid any collaboration between us. Nonetheless, she had already told me what to say, what to stick to, so when finally questioned, all I had to say was:

 _I've been sleeping on Mark's couch after we met in the hospital. His friend Maggie came to visit, but he was already asleep so she visited with me in the living room instead. We heard strange sounds from the bedroom and went to check on him, only to find a man in a dirty Christmas sweater and a fedora stabbing him in the stomach. Maggie dropped her purse in shock and so I took her gun and shot the intruder, but I ran out of ammo so I decided to make sure he was subdued by hitting him over the head as well._

Both of us knew it would land me in jail for a while at the very least since I had gone past defending and into the realm of excessive force with my attack. I honestly didn't care about that though. Let them put me in prison for the rest of my life. I was done. I was tired of trying. Mark had been the first person that seemed to stave off that insatiable fury within me. Even when I got angry, it was so much easier to control simply knowing he was there. Maybe it was stupid to say, but it was true. And he was so sincerely sweet too...taking care of me like he did...just the way he spoke the simplest of things was so kind. I had never found anyone like him before and I knew I'd never find another ever again.

So, I stuck to the story Maggie had given me and awaited judgement. It ended up that she was released after several hours while I was meant to remain in lockup for seventy-two. _Freddy's dead,_ I kept repeating to myself, _I killed him for you, Mark. Please rest in peace knowing you didn't die in vain...just please, finally be at peace._ For the first twelve hours or so, there was another man in the cell with me, but he was soon let out and I was relieved to be by myself again. Not because the guy had been bothering me or anything. It was only the idea of being stuck in someone's company right then pissed me off.

"Hello, Devin."

I looked up from where I had been sitting with my head hung to see the young girl from the restaurant standing directly in front of me, her short black skirt swaying from side to side and her arms crossed beneath her breasts. The anger that had begun to numb by then returned and I growled at the insolent ghost, "What the fuck do _you_ want?!"

"Same as you," she stated calmly.

"I really doubt that," I scoffed, "You were the one giving Mark a way to die in the first place. Why would you care about getting him back?"

She hesitated, "I meant taking your frustrations out on Krueger."

I bore my eyes into hers and grinned, "I already did that."

"Maybe...for a moment...was it really satisfying after what he did to you, though?" she shot back playfully.

"Look, you little cunt," I stood up and stared maliciously down at her, "If there is anyone I want to take my frustrations out on right now, it's _you_. You're the one that started all this mess. Mark would be alive right now if it weren't for you."

"Would he?" she retorted.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" I snapped.

"Think about it," she lifted her hands palm up in a thoughtful gesture, "If we hadn't shown up, he would have never had the extra push he needed to get out of that suicidal pit he was living in." She paused to let me consider her words before continuing, "Furthermore, he wouldn't have been in the ward at the same time as you...you would have never met."

"You're wrong," I growled, "Maybe we would have never met, but Mark is strong. He didn't need your bullshit. He would have gotten better either way. If him being alive and happy meant I never met him, then I would be fine with that. But _you,_ " I made sure to relay as much disgust at possible when referring to her, "Had to be selfish and petty. Not only did you get him killed, but you got five more kids killed! Don't you feel any remorse at all?"

Emma hardened her stance and glared back at me, "That bastard deserves to be in eternal agony for what he's done! How the hell can you be ok with just letting him live carefree in another world knowing he killed the man you loved?!"

"GAHH!" I reached out in an attempt to grab the girl's throat, only to stumble forward and hit my head on the iron bars of my cell when she disappeared into the air. I spun around, but she was gone. "GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!" I yelled, kicking the cot I had been sitting on, sending the cheap metal slat clanking against the wall from which it hung.

"HEY! Knock it off in there!" a guard immediately showed at the entrance of the cell.

I turned to face him, stepping determinedly forward, but before I was close enough to reach my hand through the bars and grab him, I instead grabbed the hair on the top of my head and pulled it as I forced myself to back away. When my back thudded against the wall, I let my body slide down it until I was sitting on the floor, head down and face hidden in my knees as I started sobbing, not caring about being heard...


	25. Chapter 25: A Hero

With the overwhelming gratitude of the town's parents at having the child murderer taken out, there was little fuss about my sentence. In fact, several, including a few whose children had actually been killed, rushed to my defense without any prompting. I hadn't bothered with getting a lawyer or denying having brutally mauled Krueger to death because, like I said, I didn't give a shit about what happened anymore. Nonetheless, a lawyer was sent to me, care of the parents, and she pleaded my case saying that there was no telling what other tragedies would have unfolded had I not ensured that the murderer was down and out.

In addition, she brought many of the parents as well as other family members and friends of the deceased who told their stories and argued that I was merely enacting justice and keeping the rest of the people safe. At that point in the case, the opposing side would have brought into question my psychiatric and criminal records to say I wasn't acting out of nobility, but merely out of my own frustration and flawed personality. Fortunately for me, I guess, there was no opposition. It seemed that the whole town was on my side...including Maggie.

I had spent a total of five weeks in jail before I was finally set free. I figured that Mark's apartment would have been reclaimed by the landlord at that point so I was surprised to be let out to find that Maggie had paid the previous month's rent for Mark and told the landlord that I'd likely be happy to take it over once I was out. She enlightened him to the events and he seemed willing to work with transferring the lease to me as he, too, claimed I was a hero. I only found this out because Maggie had been calling the police headquarters every day to know when I was being freed. Then, she met me outside and explained the situation to me.

"Since he didn't have a will and there's no contactable family, his possessions fell to the property owner," Maggie told me, "But I managed to get him to let you keep the stuff to figure out what to do with it yourself."

"How'd you do that?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the ground as we walked, "These kinds of people like to take anything they can get their hands on and legally, everything in that apartment is theirs now."

"Yeah, well, _they_ didn't know he didn't have a will," Maggie shrugged.

I cut my eyes over to her, "You forged a will for him?"

"No, I just said I was his legal representation and told them that he meant for everything to fall to you when..." her steady voice trailed off then, refusing to finish, probably for not wanting to upset me.

"Thanks," I muttered.

When we got to her car, we loaded in and she gave me a ride back into town. Outside of the apartment complex, she handed me the keys and asked if I wanted her to go in with me. Of course, I told her no. She didn't push any further. She only told me to take care and reminded me that her number was saved in Mark's phone should I want to call her for anything. I didn't say anything and just huffed out of the vehicle, almost slamming the door shut behind me. I made it up the stairs and let myself into Mark's apartment.

As the door swung shut behind me, I just stood in the living room and stared. It felt so empty...I felt so empty. I had had a lot of struggles and my life had never been consistent. At one point I'd have a job and home and the next I'd be homeless; I'd have friends, then they'd all be gone. But during it all...I had never felt so...depressed. I was always the chipper guy...the one that kept a positive attitude, truly stayed positive not just acted like I was happy when I wasn't.

I traipsed around the apartment, scenes of my time spent with Mark flashing across my vision as I journeyed through. Looking at the couch, I remembered watching TV together. Then my eyes found the stain on the carpet from him trying to kill himself that I had helped him scrub with bleach until the color was completely gone, making it obvious that some kind of mess had been made there though only we would know what. Turning then to the kitchen, I once more appreciated him always giving me his food. I ended up making my way to the bedroom, caught momentarily on the spot where I had pummeled Freddy until I was able to tear my sight away and crawl back onto the bed.

As I lay there, my hand grazed the sheets where his body had been. There were a few dried spots of blood that had leaked off the side of his stomach and had soaked in there. I halted when I felt them, tears instantly springing into my eyes. What the fuck was wrong with me? I threw my head into the pillow, screaming until my lungs and my throat were sore and finally, falling asleep amidst painful sobs.

The following days consisted of me doing absolutely nothing with any of Mark's belongings while contacting his boss only to be given the job he had left behind. I then contacted the police station, the court house, and the crematorium only to be told there was nothing I could do to see Mark one last time before he was cremated and his remains were discarded. I ended up going off on everyone over the phone, each one of them hanging up on me while I shouted at them. I was angry enough that I considered storming up to said places and causing a scene, but instead I ended up falling into numbness and then passing out to sleep.

After that, I worked Mark's regular nine to five for almost three months. In and out, the same routine of getting up, throwing on deodorant and my uniform, heading to work, coming home, and staring at the TV until I fell asleep...and repeat. I had cried a lot the first week or two yet gradually the tears came less and less and I began feeling nothing at all. The night that finally broke this cycle...was the night I happened across a box-cutter in the apartment.

I picked it up, turning it over and over in my hand and staring at the extended blade that seemed to have old blood on it. I had found it under the couch like it had been knocked under accidentally when somebody walked through. In that moment, I truly understood the immense despair that had plagued my poor lover's mind for who knows how long...and I cried again for the first time in weeks.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" I whispered to the blade.

Suddenly, I heard a sound...a vague voice hovering about around me. My eyes shot open and I lifted my head, remembering everything that I had learned about the afterlife...about the spiritual. Ghosts, demons, Mark's spiritual gifts...astral travel. There _had_ to be a way for me to reach him again! Vision fell onto the blade in my hand. I would kill for that man in an instant, but...I needed to contact him...to know where he was before I made any drastic actions.

I clicked the razors back into their holder and slipped the box-cutter into my pocket, simultaneously raising from the couch and heading to the kitchen table where the computer still was. Sitting down in the chair there, I put my hand on the mouse and clicked over to Google before typing into its search box. _How to contact the dead._

I was met with several articles about tarot cards, channeling, how to tell if you were being haunted. There were even ads claiming to give you the most accurate psychic reading out there. I read through the first three pages of sites and found nothing helpful in contacting a specific spirit myself. Mostly it was all to do with how to determine your future or know if a spirit was trying to contact you or if someone was being possessed. Then of course, there were the ever looming links trying to get you to buy spiritual readings and other services.

 _Where were those goddamn ghosts when you needed them?_ As if in answer to my mental question, I saw figures standing in the distance over the top of the computer screen. I blinked rapidly, moving out of the light to get my eyes to re-focus to see who was there. It was Damian and the two other ghost boys.

"So now you're trying to talk to ghosts?" Emma's scoff sounded behind me.

I twisted around to see her, "I want to talk to _Mark_ ," I growled. "How do I-"

"I'll tell you the same thing I told him," she raised an eyebrow, "Everyone's afterlife is different. I can't tell you where he is. That's like me asking you to locate some random human in the world. It's nearly impossible."

"Nearly," I repeated. "Meaning it's possible."

The gothic teen sighed, "Well, I can't help you. Let me put it that way."

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"Thought you might reconsider helping us," she shrugged.

"What?" my rage instantly returned, "What am I desperate and hopeless enough now for you to to try manipulate and use like you did with Mark? Huh?!"

Damian was upon me then, taking a spot between the two of us as I shouted at the girl. He lifted his baseball bat and pushed it against my chest, nudging me to back off.

"Get the fuck out of here, all of you!" I ordered.

"Or what?" Damian grinned, "You'll kill us?"

My breathing grew ragged as I pushed back against his weapon, "I'm _not_ going to help you! I never will so quit wasting your time! You're just as pathetic and cruel as Fred Krueger!"

That comparison certainly set them off. They both stepped back from me as Damian lifted his bat to swing in my direction. However, I threw my hand up and gripped the wood. This kid's strength wasn't anything compared to the demon's so I had no trouble in forcing it against him instead, although it did take both hands. But as I fought him off, I felt two sets of hands grabbing onto my legs and waist. I turned around, met with the sight of the two younger boys behind me.

Instantly, I landed a punch smack dab in the center of Todd's face, causing him to release me before I put my attention on Chris. Spinning in a half-circle that took him with me, I clutched onto his hair and pulled until he cursed at me.

"Hey, knock it off," Emma said, allowing me to look back in time to see Damian's bat was once more aimed at me.

This time I wasn't able to dodge the blow, the force from which was enough to send my head spinning though I didn't collapse. Instead I simply faltered backward and began shouting again, "Alright, you little shits! Is this what you want? You want to fight me? Because that's all you're going to get!"

The teen in the trench coat was grinning as he stepped toward me once more, but he was met with Emma casually placing a hand on his shoulder, "Come on. We'll find what we're looking for somewhere else," she whispered to him yet her glare was on me.

The entire group came together before putting their backs on me and walking away...disappearing within their first few steps of doing so. I stared after them, kind of wishing they had stayed to fight me so I could get some of my frustration out. Nonetheless, I felt another wave of lightheadedness from the blow to my head so I decided to simply sit back down and keep on with my research. However, when I sat, something new occurred to me.

I had contemplated attempting astral travel only to be meant with the realization that I had no idea where to go searching for him. From what he had told me, he didn't come into contact with any other creatures that could see him until he traveled to Hell where he'd almost been stuck. Unlike me, he also had a guide who had told him where the person he sought was. I had nothing. That's why I had started my search by looking into contacting spirits, especially specific ones...but that had come up dry too. The new thought was this: I knew Emma and her gang would be of no help and they certainly couldn't be trusted...so what if...I found someone else like them who could help me?

I put my hands on the keyboard and began typing. _How to summon a demon._


	26. Chapter 26: Mark

"Hello again. I thought I might see you back here," the voice was friendly though the demon's face was without expression as he peered down at me.

"Spike?" my brow furrowed looking at him while I tried to push myself to my feet, only to fall on my ass again, pulled down by a massive weight on my back.

"Don't worry, Mark," he cocked his head to the side, "You'll get used to those."

"Used to what?" I wondered, twisting my head to look behind me.

Protruding from beside my shoulder blades and lining my spine, were two large black masses attached to me...wings. _Woah_. My mind instantly connected to them, commanding them to move. When the masses extended, I found out that there weren't just two, there were several, perhaps ten making up each side. All were relatively thin, leathery, but there were so many close enough together that they didn't feel or look frail at all. In fact, they made me feel powerful. _So I was a demon now?_

I put my attention back on Spike, "How did I get these?"

"Well, I assume you died," the demon stated plainly.

My brain shot back to fighting Krueger, getting stabbed, Devin crying as he tried to save me... I attempted to stand once more, this time making note of my new appendages to properly compensate for them. I wobbled catching my balance, but I was finally on my feet. "Yeah, ok," eyes forward on my old friend, "Is it normal to die and become a demon? I didn't make a deal with anyone or anything like Freddy did."

"I wouldn't say it's normal," Spike mused, "It's certainly not unheard of. Don't you humans think you become angels when you die?"

I thought about what he had to say for a moment while also taking a few awkward steps. I guess a lot of people did think that. Or at least, they thought when they died, they went to Heaven where angels were. "Humans aren't exactly walking encyclopedias on what happens after you die...as much as some liked to think they are."

"Fair enough," the demon answered as he watched me get my bearings. "It's different for everyone, but more or less, the spirit takes on a new life after its body dies. Generally with creatures of your world, though, they are simply reborn as what they were last time...or at least another thing from your world."

"You mean like a human could die and come back as a goat?" I asked, attention on my feet as I kept walking, gaining stability with every step.

"Yes," Spike confirmed.

"I think that's called reincarnation," I mused, finally feeling comfortable enough to look back up, "So what now? What do I do?"

"Whatever you want, I guess," although my companion didn't move at all, I pictured him shrugging in his mind.

"I meant, aren't there rules to follow? Laws or Satan or some shit?" my brow was scrunched again.

"Just the law of the land," he shrugged without shrugging again.

"What does that mean?" the conversation was starting to agitate me.

"Take care of yourself, expect others to take care of themselves. Pick your battles," Spike was almost less than helpful...almost because I think I was able to catch on to what he was saying.

"Hell is an anarchist society, then? Everyone fends for themselves?" was my conclusion.

The strange skeleton nodded.

"And that works?" I questioned.

"It does here. I won't say there are never any groups that try to conquer, but it's generally resolved. Nobody here wants to be ruled so when that does happen, the rest of us band together to eradicate the threat," he informed.

"I see..." I started to walk again, Spike joining at my side, "So-"

"YOU LITTLE BITCH!"

I would have spun around to the familiar rasp if a hand and claw hadn't reached over my shoulders, grabbing and turning me themselves. The burnt man in his raggedy and filthy clothes glared at me, raising his claw to strike my face. Instinctively, I lifted my own hand, drawing my sword out of the air, the blade somehow heavier than I remembered. I was barely able to block the attack before my weapon fell heavily downward though I still grasped its handle. At the same time, my wings extended, pushing the dream demon back away from me.

"You think you're clever, don't you?!" Freddy yelled, enraged.

I glanced over at Spike who once again took a neutral position, simply observing the fight. "It's good to see you back where you belong," I said to my murderer, struggling to, but succeeding in lifting my sword once more though the flame wasn't there.

"You wait! You won't last a month in here!" Freddy growled. "I killed you once and I'll kill you again!"

My response was to say he was only able to kill me in the first place because I had allowed him to. However, he vanished from sight before I could even open my mouth. My vision immediately settled on my weapon as I let it drop and disappear back from where it had come.

"I guess he's mad that you brought him back here," Spike cocked his head, drawing my attention to him.

"I didn't-" suddenly I remembered that it had been Devin who killed Krueger.

Devin.

Stepping determinedly toward my companion, I reached out and grabbed his pointed shoulders, "I need to get to Earth! How do I go back?"

Spike, calm as ever, slowly lifted the bony wings that served as his arms and gently nudged me off of him, waiting for me to relent before speaking, "You're stuck here now. Why do you think those ghost friends of yours used you to get here?"

Taking a pace backward and removing myself from him, I could feel a tear growing in my eye, "But...there has to be another way! I have to check on Devin! I have to know that he's ok..."

"Devin?" he asked with a head tilt.

"My...my..." I choked on finding the right word to describe him.

"Was he your mate?" the demon guessed.

I hesitated...then gave a nod. My mate? My boyfriend...my love...

"I'm sorry," Spike offered even though the sentiment sounded somewhat flat, "The best you can hope for is for him to find a way to reach you. Do you think it's likely he'll die soon?"

"What? No!" I growled, not appreciating the idea of Devin dying.

"Oh," the demon seemed taken aback. I assumed he didn't like the aggression aimed upon him. "I only meant to help," he assured.

I shook my head. It was morbid, though I guess the culture of this realm was very different from that of humans. "No, he's healthy, but," an idea come to mind them, "But what if I die? then can I go back to Earth?"

Spike paused, considering the inquiry, "It's possible, but not probable. Just like being of that realm makes it exceedingly likely you will be born of that realm again, when you're born in this one, you're also most likely to rebirth here. And if you did happen to both return to that Earth and be a human when you did, bodies of physical realms such as that are different from realms like ours...not only would you begin all over as an infant, but you wouldn't have the memories of your past lives."

I sighed in defeat. I felt like crying yet was somehow incapable of letting the emotion come. Instead, I just kept walking, trying to convince myself that Devin was alright. Freddy was dead. That meant that he had made it out and succeeded in killing him. Devin was smart and he knew about the ghosts and how I had been able to astral travel to reach Krueger. Maybe he was trying to figure out how to find me...or perhaps he was just moving on with his life. We hadn't known each other long anyway, even with as much as had happened during that time. Either way, I just hoped he was happy.

I found living in Hell very strange. As opposed to when my spirit had journeyed here by itself, actually being completely in the realm made things seem more...real...less ethereal. Even so, the caves, the trees and rivers, the very ground...everything could be influenced by the creatures walking about. For example, I could stroll up to a boulder and if I willed it well enough, I could wave the a hand through the stone as if it wasn't actually there...even motion my arm through it and change its entire position if I was enough mind. Just as before, though, the colors of the realm were dim...as if washed out through a filter on a photo editor.

I learned there were various different types of demons. There were many, like Krueger, who fed in one way or the other from humans. Most of the others, however, did not actually kill, but rather caused havoc in the lives of their prey and feasted on the chaotic energy or fear. I questioned Spike as to how these creatures were able to attain victims and his answer was the same as when we first talked: that it required a human connecting to the demon in order for them to travel to the physical plane.

I didn't understand, at first, why they would care to leave Hell where they didn't need to feed to survive. Then, my companion pointed the reason out by asking me why I wanted to return. Apparently the ones that longed for the realm of humans were missing something...something the demon world couldn't offer them. For some, it was the simple pleasures of that physical life, fear, pain, sex...even the fucking weather. Others, like me, were infatuated with a particular being and wanted to be around them, though not all for the same reasons. And lastly, there were those who _didn't_ want to go to Earth yet were drawn from Hell by selfish humans- usually those dying or close to death.

All in all, it wasn't an unpleasant place to be. There was far less fighting than I anticipated and most of the creatures stuck to themselves or in small groups. Another thing I learned was that the demons who looked humanoid were stronger and more advanced than those that appeared animalistic. After that, I deduced that Spike was somewhere in a middle ground while I was on a higher tier which was odd considering he said he had lived in his current form for centuries.

But the days started to drag on, each seemingly taking longer to pass than the one prior. Initially, I was able to distract myself by gathering all the information I could about my new home...but gradually, my thoughts returned to Devin. I had lost track of time at that point and became obsessed with the man. Every waking thought was about him...wondering where he was...what he was doing... _who_ he was doing. I found myself in a constant state of possessive rage, taking my anger out on any creature that happened to get close to me.

Soon, I found that word of me had spread and when I journeyed to a place where others were, they quickly dispersed. Few would actually stick anywhere near me with Spike being the only exception...and he was also the only one who didn't inspire my fury. I began to understand that he saw me as a sort of master, as was the demon culture. Weaker beings would follow after any stronger being that took a liking to them, with their loyalty always sticking to the most powerful of these.

One night, drenched in my anger and the strange demonic rain that instead of making you wet, soaked through your core and pricked at the energy inside, I saw an unusual white light in the distance. It wasn't typical for us to venture out into the storm as it was draining, sometimes painful, but upon seeing the beam, I jumped from my perch atop a massive stone pile and made my way for it.

I flew until I was several paces away, then dropped to the ground and put careful steps forward. I hadn't yet seen anything like it. My hand slowly reached out, feeling the light. It didn't hurt. I actually felt nothing. Retreating my hand, however, I saw that it had faded out...gradually coming back once removed from the white energy. _What the fuck was this?_ I stood there and stared, not understanding and not knowing how to react. Yet as I gazed, it was like the beam extended...reaching for me.

It was no doubt the dangerous thing to do, but I couldn't help letting the light consume me...stepping forward until I was within it and saw nothing of the world around me. Looking down to my body, I watched without concern as I faded into nothingness... Suddenly, the light disappeared and I was enveloped in darkness...but then different colors of energy lit in random spots around me in the shape of small lightning bolts. They started as red and eventually were every color in existence...some I had never even before witnessed.

When the fantastic show ended, my body returned though it felt weary...as if I had just been through a difficult battle or a taxing trip. Slowly, everything around me was back as well. I could see the world again...but it wasn't the world I had been in. No. Instead, my eyes fell on a familiar sight...a place I hadn't been in what seemed like years...an old friend standing in the midst of my view...

"Mark?" the dark skinned man addressed me, shock overwhelming him.


	27. Chapter 27: Mavin

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't normally give warnings for sex scenes, but since this story did not originally have sex in it, I am giving the readers warning here. I will mark the beginning of the sex with *** so that you can skip ahead to chapter 28 if you don't wish to read that part. I'll also mark the ending with *** in case you want to skip the sex, but still read the afterglow :3 You wont miss anything important to the plot by skipping the marked section or the section afterward.**

If it hadn't been for everything he had witnessed since meeting Mark, Devin would have doubted his sanity...or at least his sobriety at that moment. It hadn't been his first attempt to summon a creature from another realm, but it had been the only successful one. After researching ways to summon demons and finding nothing but _the power of prayer_ as explanation for reaching angels, Devin had used all his resources to gather the items he was told he needed: candles, an athame, salt, and an article of intent which amounted to a piece of parchment with his written desire and blood on it after having focused all of his energy on a goal.

He was meant to be in a place with as little technological interference as possible, but since there was no way for him to reach a natural area where he wouldn't be bothered, the man settled on removing all technology from the apartment bedroom and cutting off all lights before starting the ritual on the floor next to the mattress. Lighting candles around the area while chanting old words of Greek was for drawing natural energy and mixing it with your own, a collection of power. A circle of salt was meant to contain the summoned spirit and protect the summoner who sat outside of it. And finally, the article of intent was offered within the circle to draw the demon's attention.

After the first two failures, the man decided he was doing something wrong and went back to the internet. He didn't find anything different from what he had already read which made him begin to despair. However, a thought occurred to him. It was his article of intent. His intent was to reach Mark so what if instead of simply writing or drawing it out as he was instructed, he actually took something of Mark's and used it. Devin immediately began searching the home. Initially, he brought out the tank top that he had first been loaned and sat down to prepare the ritual again. However, staring at his own blood staining the white fabric from when Krueger had sliced his face, he thought better of it.

That item might unintentionally connect him to Freddy, who was no doubt back in Hell. Taking a few more minutes to think, Devin returned to the living room and retrieved the box cutter from the table where he had left it...the one that Mark had tried to kill himself with. This time, rather than use the athame to cut himself, he used the same blade that had gashed his lover's arm and sent him to the hospital where they met. He then repeated the ritual and this time...it worked.

The circle before him suddenly filled with a grey light that slowly faded around the dark form of a man...no, a demon in the center of the salt. The creature's wings began extending before the last of the energy dissipated, their edges reaching out to fill the length of the room they were in. But as the demon became clearer, Devin realized it was no matter of beast at all... "Mark?" Without waiting for any response, the darker skinned man broke through the salt, throwing his arms around the demon inside, "Mark, it is you!" he cried. "I was...I was so afraid I'd never see you again!"

The demon, taken off guard at the sudden rapture he had been pulled into, stood there for a few moments, silent as his mind caught up to what was happening. He didn't understand at first. All he sensed was another being and knew he hated them...didn't want anyone around except for the one he loved...but when the man rushed toward the danger without thought and hugged him, Mark realized...it was _him_ , the man who had shown him what love was...the man because of whom he'd become an endless pit of rage and obsession. And when he finally knew this, the demon retracted his wings, placing them carefully around the human while finishing the embrace.

"You...didn't forget about me..." Mark breathed.

"Forget?" Devin repeated incredulously as he tore his gaze from the demon's chest to look up at him, "Never. I've been trying to find you."

The demon's hold on the man tightened, "I have missed you...so much."

"And I, you," the human choked through a cheerful sob. "I don't know where to begin."

"I do," Mark returned, his blue eyes glowing as he peered down at the man in his arms whose expression was happy yet confused.

Without warning, the demon grasped tightly onto Devin's shoulders, spinning them around before throwing the human onto the mattress behind them. Startled by the abrupt action, Devin lifted himself to sit on the bed, watching curiously as Mark stepped through the other side of the salt-circle, ignoring the minor burning as he did so...the summoner having broken the majority of the protection by lunging himself through it upon seeing the creature within.

The demon approached without a smile, causing his intended's heart rate to pick up, momentarily wondering if the man he had loved was indeed still the same person after his reincarnation. "Mark?" the man whispered, only to be met with cold fingertips on his lips as a pale mouth shushed him.

"Relax," Mark smiled, leaning down into the human on the bed, slowly crawling up onto it himself and making Devin lower further backward, "I've been wanting to do this for a long time."

Devin grinned, understanding the demon's intention and simply laid down, awaiting his lover's touch. To Mark, the human's dark eyes shone as much as his own at that moment and he longed to just stare into them forever...but that possessive spirit that had grown inside him during his time in Hell, wanted to tear the man's clothing from him and claim him for his own. Fighting this aggression, he instead closed his eyes and planted his lips firmly onto Devin's to remind him of that beautiful taste he had encountered when the man had pecked him by surprise. Except this time...the kiss was long and passionate.

The demon opened his lips more, prompting the man beneath him to do the same as he threw arms around his chest, awkwardly brushing his finger against leathery wings. It wasn't enough...not just for the carnal beast, but for the lustful human as well. Devin pushed into the kiss, forcing his tongue inside his lover who instantly reciprocated. With his inhumanity giving him strength slightly greater than the human, Mark pushed back, sucking and then biting his lover's lower lip. The man groaned in pleasure at the gentle nip, his hands finding their way down the black suit covering the dark creature's body and finding the button of his pants.

In response, Mark smirked, raising back onto his knees and quickly undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and throwing both it and his jacket down onto his arms, letting Devin pull the clothes off the rest of the way. Then, as the human trailed his fingers across the outline of Mark's chest and stomach, the demon bore down on him again, grabbing hold of the thin tshirt Devin wore and ripping it from his body. Devin smiled wildly at the pure lust in the other man's actions, once more reaching for his pants and this time, succeeding in undoing them to reveal that the demon's desire showed through all the way to his most intimate parts.

Likewise, Mark inched away so that he could remove the jeans his lover wore. Devin lifted his hips from the bed to help in that goal, but his hands had found their place on the demon's hardness, gently stroking him...distracting him from his intention. Fumbling with Devin's pants, the demon became aggravated, growling loudly before clutching onto either side of the man's hips and yanking the clothing away so forcefully that it tore. Devin fought with his feet to creep the jeans the rest of the way off before shaking them off, throwing them somewhere in the room.

As Mark fell down upon the man again, he reached toward his groin to take hold of himself, easing his digit between Devin's legs, separating his skin to find where to enter him. The human pushed himself upward, grabbing hold of the demon's face and pulling him into another passionate kiss before the demon forced him back upon the bed and thrust his hips forward. Devin moaned when his lover finally connected with him, grabbing onto his wings at his shoulders as he braced his body to let the demon finish going inside.

Then, Mark fell back onto his knees, reaching down and curling his fingers around Devin's own hard, grasping tightly as he took in the expression of pleasure that crossed the man's face as he did so. Gently pushing in and pulling out of the human at first while stroking him in an identical motion, the demon soon found that he wanted more...no, they _both_ wanted more. Understanding the subtle changes in his lover's face as he moved, he increased his speed, rolling his hips to feel inside the man, remove himself, and be inside again, in a rapid cycle that made his core tense. He likewise matched the motion of his hand to please his partner in equal time.

Devin's hands trailed Mark's body, his own body tightening all the while with each push, each pull, each stroke...the movements came faster, drawing moans and sighs from both the demon and the human as both neared climax. Devin's hands stopped tickling his lover's body and instead clutched at his sides as he softly begged the demon to keep going. Even though his hand was tiring, his body weakening as he achieved release and filled the human's body, Mark continued rubbing without slowing until finally, Devin came as well, the orgasm obvious through the liquid spraying the demon's stomach and the thankful expression on the human's face.

Both their bodies weak from the long-awaited experience, they simultaneously pulled themselves away from each other and then crawled up to the pillows at the head of the bed. There, they rested, holding onto each other tightly, ignoring how drenched in sweat they were. Instead, they simply caught their breath as they turned to stare into each other's eyes.

"You'll stay, won't you?" Devin asked when he could finally speak.

The demon leaned forward and kissed the man's forehead, "Of course. There is nowhere else I'd ever want to be. There's nothing better than being with you."

The human smiled and curled into his lover, "I'll do anything to keep you then."

Mark dropped his gaze to the man laying with him, "What do you mean?"

Devin looked up, "I figure there has to be some sort of catch...for you being here. Krueger had to feed on the fearful spirits of children...what do you think you'd need?"

The demon's eyes flashed as he blinked, "I...I don't know. But you're right, from what I _do_ know, there will be something...some sort of nourishment."

"Well," Devin smiled, "We'll figure it out. Perhaps we will get lucky and this is all you need right here," he patted his lover's chest.

Mark grinned, "Are you saying you hope I'm an incubus?"

"There's no harm in wishing," he answered.

And then both of the creatures laughed, their spirits at last at peace in knowing they could be together now and always.

"I love you, Mark...I mean that."

"I love you too, Devin...I've never felt like this before."

"Me neither."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: *athame- a double edged dagger used in ceremonial and traditional magic**


	28. Chapter 28: The Problem with Emma

"Come on, Ems, lighten up," Damian sat down next to the girl and nudged her shoulder with his.

"Leave me alone. I don't feel like it right now," Emma sighed, hanging her head and crossing her arms in her lap.

Sitting on the steps of the school they had attended before being murdered, the young leader couldn't understand why the rest of her friends didn't have the same drive she did...this overwhelming need to torture Freddy Krueger for ruining their lives. How could they forget about what he had done to them so easily?

"Hey Ems," the tall boy jumped out from behind a tree and threw his arm over my shoulder.

"Damian," I blushed, "What are you doing here? If anyone tells my mom they saw us together..."

"You worry too much!" the older boy leaned over and kissed my cheek. "I haven't been able to spend any time with you because of those goddamn exams this week."

"I know," I smiled, "But hey, last day is tomorrow. I should be able to find plenty of excuses over the summer where we can hang out."

Damian graduated this year, making him about four years older than me. When I had told my mom he asked me out, she said I couldn't go and had then forbid me from even being friends with him after hearing that we hung out at school. Of course, I didn't give a fuck what she said. Damian was a sweetheart and we had hit it off the moment we met. Even so, I had to sneak around to be with him to keep any trouble my mom might cause at a minimum. Certainly since his birthday was coming up and that meant he'd be legal. I definitely didn't want her trying to pull some sort of statutory rape claim on him.

"Yeah, I was actually thinking about that. I heard the freshmen are throwing a party tomorrow night. Maybe if you could get your mom to let you out...I can meet up with you there and we can find somewhere quiet to go," the boy grinned.

"That sounds great!" I smiled, "Since it's supposed to be freshmen only, then I could tell her seniors like you weren't even allowed and I know my friend Amy would vouch for me."

Except the only problem was...Amy never made it to the party. The next morning at school...we were informed that she had been killed in her sleep. At first I thought it was some joke. Like a prank for the end of the school year...but I was wrong. Right after I finished my last test for the day, my mom had met me at the school and picked me up. After a few hours passed of Mom worrying over me, I finally brought the party up.

"Absolutely not!" she shook her head, "No chaperones? with a killer on the loose? No. You will stay here with me where it's safe."

"UGH, MOM! That is so unfair!" I complained, "Everyone is going to be there. I really doubt some dude is going to traipse into the middle of a crowded house and just start killing people."

"I said, no, Emma," the woman repeated.

I had marched up to my room and locked the door before turning my stereo on full blast. Another hour or so went by and I began hearing a small thudding sound outside of my window. Turning the music down just a bit, I went over to the glass and slid it open. Below on the ground, stood Damian.

"Hey, Ems, are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes, "My mom wouldn't let me get out tonight."

"That sucks," his shoulders fell, "Well, at least I got to say good night."

"Wait!" I called as he turned to leave, "Don't go yet."

I then went back inside, carefully unlocking my door and peering out into the hallway. Nobody was there so I inched out to the top of the stairs and looked over the banister into the living room. Mom had fallen asleep on the sofa. I crept to my bedroom, closing and locking the door once more and returning to the window.

"What are you doing? Be careful!" Damian called in a hushed voice when he saw me climbing out and shimmying down the vines on the side of my house.

At first, the greenery and the bricks beneath were sturdy enough, but as I got lower, my foot slipped and I fell to the ground. Damian ran toward me after emitting a curse and helped me to my feet. I felt a little bruised. Otherwise I was fine. The two of us ran down the block to where he had parked his truck and then we drove out to the park. Admittedly, I was a little worried at first being alone, hidden under the trees at night with what had happened to Amy. However, my boyfriend quickly reassured me that he could handle everything. He locked the doors and showed me the baseball bat that he kept near his seat in case someone tried to bother us.

That night was absolutely wonderful. We had laid in the car, listening to music, kissing, watching the stars, and talking about the future. Eventually, we both fell asleep. We didn't mean for it to happen, but it did...and that's when the nightmare started. I would never forget every excruciating detail of it...how I was deceived with images of Damian betraying me...figuratively and then literally ripping my heart from my chest...then I heard the most evil, frenzied laughter I couldn't have even imagined...and just before Freddy Krueger plunged his claw into me and feasted on my soul, my real boyfriend showed up...and saved me.

I woke up to find myself clinging to his bloodied body, the scene gorier than anything I'd ever seen in a horror film. I screamed and cried and cursed the demon that had taken my boyfriend from me. But none of it did any good. When the police finally arrived and found me, having been alerted to my absence from my mom, I was too far gone. I fought them, swinging at them with the baseball bat...I was so angry...I couldn't let them take me away from Damian.

Nonetheless, they did. I stayed another night in the hospital and was sent home, only to be admitted to the psych ward after two weeks of doing nothing other than stare out my window, thinking maybe if I wished really hard...Damian would come back to me. I had slept so sparingly during that time that I didn't even dream so I hadn't encountered Krueger again until I was forced into slumber with medicine at the juvenile psychiatric institute. Then, my mind remembered everything. Remembered the TRUE story and not the bullshit the adults had been trying to feed me about blocking the memory of whoever had attacked and killed Damian that night.

And I knew not to believe the vision of my boyfriend that he fed me. I fought against it until the demon showed himself and then, I went after him. I punch and kicked and scratched. I grabbed onto every item around me and threw it at him or struck him with it directly. It was all a blur, but when I awoke again the next day...alive...I thought I had succeeded in killing Freddy. That was until I read about more deaths in the paper. So I went after him again...this time in utter despair. I wanted him to kill me and I grew angry when he refused...delighting in torturing me.

I lived for eight more months. Eight months of sheer agony. And that's when I decided...I'd do it myself. If I couldn't kill Krueger and he wouldn't kill me...I'd end my own life. I tried...I really did. _Down the alley and not across the street,_ they said that was the proper way to gash your wrist. So I did just that. I locked the bathroom door and dipped myself into the warm bath, ripping the blade the entire length of one arm...and then did the same with the other. Then, I waited. At last, I passed out and was met with the sweet, cheerful face of my lost lover. His warm embrace was so inviting...so perfect, but then he backed away from me...his face twisted in pain.

"Ems, why would you keep me here? It hurts! Let me go!" he cried.

"Damian?" tears soaked my face and I screamed the boy's name, "DAMIAN!"

Yet I was powerless to the scene unfolding in front of me. The same wounds that had killed him slowly reappeared on his body, ripping his abdomen apart and strewing the organs from inside everywhere around us. His blood soaked his own face and mine...the crimson drenched my clothes as he fell to the ground. I rushed over to him, cradling his body in my arms and sobbing his name over and over amidst desperate apologies.

 _"_ I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!"

The laughter returned, along with a gut-wrenching pain in my stomach. I opened my eyes to see the boy I loved turn into the hideously burned monster... He finally murdered me...set me free...or so I thought, but he really didn't. When I was at last reunited with Damian...the real Damian in the next life, I realized...the agony...the torture I had gone through...I couldn't escape. My hatred for Krueger couldn't be stopped and it welled inside of me, giving birth to this walking shell that felt nothing but a lust for revenge. Even being able to gaze onto the face of the boy I had loved every day for eternity...being able to feel him, to be in his company at any and every moment...I could feel nothing except my hatred...loathing that would never be satiated until Krueger had lived a thousand lifetimes of the same torment I had endured.

I looked up to where Todd and Chris were sparring, laughing and smiling as they fought playfully. I hated them. How could they be so happy? So carefree? Damian and I had only picked up these two other victims because they also refused to be happy in another life. The both of them had nearly died by the hands of their own guardians, their childhoods as horrible as the one Mark had lived. Except Krueger _did_ save them...saved them from the same weary life that Mark had fought through... I realized then that I hated him too. I wanted him to suffer for denying me my victory...my only chance at attaining happiness again...of giving Damian the existence he deserved.

I rose from my seat and began walking away, "Come on. It's time to go to work."

"Where are we going?" Damian was instantly at my side.

"Just shut up and follow me," I growled.


	29. Chapter 29: Last Chance

Devin was the first thing I saw upon waking the next morning. He was just laying there, staring at me with that sweet, flirty smirk that he wore so well. I smiled back, "Good morning."

"Morning," he returned.

"What is it?" I laughed when his eyes stayed glued to me.

"Nothing. I just half-expected you not to be here when I woke up," he shrugged.

"I kind of did too," I admitted.

"So what are we doing today? I already called in to work," Devin placed a hand on his head and continued with an overacted statement, "I have a bad fever today."

"I don't know," I grinned. "I guess a good place to start is to see if you're the only who can see me or not."

"That's true... How are you feeling though?" his expression became solemn.

"Fine, I guess," I twitched my wings which had fallen awkwardly onto the mattress during the night. I had retracted them as tightly as they would go and still they fell off the side of the bed behind me. They actually felt a bit sore as did my body from having to keep the same position the entire time we slept, but I imagined getting up and stretching would sort that right out.

So I pushed myself up to sit on my butt before spinning and throwing my legs off the mattress, slowly so that I didn't accidentally whack Devin with my wings. In Hell, I really didn't have to worry about such things. Mostly because the world was open and roomy and many creatures were large or had similar appendages...but also because the majority of demons steered clear of me. I hopped off of the bed and took a few steps, simultaneously pulling my slacks back up before turning around and facing the man on the bed. Still naked, he had also sat up and crossed his legs.

And he was staring again...but then I realized I was too.

"What a wonderful sight," he smirked deviously.

"Alright, you," I chuckled, walking over to the closet, pulling out a fresh pair of jeans and then turning to chunk them at him, "Get dressed."

"Gahhh, fine!" he complained as he grabbed the pants and stood to put them on, deliberately wavering in his step to brush himself against me as he did so.

I stiffened, finding that I became easily intoxicated by him. I felt myself readying to reach out and pull his body close so that I could hug him from behind and yank his head to the side to land a forceful kiss...but he had quickly stopped touching me once more as he finished clothing his lower parts and buttoned the pants. Shaking my attention back to finding my own clothes, my mind questioned how the fuck I was supposed to get them over my wings. When I retrieved the dress shirt and jacket from the floor, I was alerted to the fact that they did _not_ have any allowances for the appendages. At first, I thought I would just stay bare on top, but on a whim, I began putting the shirt on normally to find it fell into place as if I didn't have the masses at all. _Interesting._

After we were dressed again, we casually walked into the main area of the apartment, Devin going immediately to the kitchen and pulling out a can of chili, "Are you hungry?"

"No," I answered plainly, my voice low. Admittedly, my focus wasn't on him as my eyes had been scanning my old home. He had left everything exactly how I had had it. My mind flooded with memories of the time I had spent idly watching the TV or scrolling random web sites...all the times before Devin...all the anguish within me then.

"Are you ok?" the man had snuck up to my side, sliding a hand around my waist and pecking my cheek.

My gaze returned to him and immediately those visions changed to the days after we met and I smiled, "I'm good. I just missed you is all."

He gave me a tight squeeze, his head resting momentarily against my wings which reacted by fluttering open to surround and push him until our cheeks touched. The motion caused him to chuckle, "That's fun."

"What would be fun is if I could take you flying," I returned.

"Aren't you two just so cute," a new voice sounded from the couch, startling us from our relaxed pose.

It belonged to Emma, her words thick and the observation clearly not meant to be pleasant. I had almost forgotten about the gothic ghost girl, though I was certain I had never heard such contempt in her tone. I instinctively extended my wings to their full length, curling their darkness in a semicircle around my lover and I to act as a sort of shield and a warning. Then, I placed a heavy gaze upon the girl and her deceased friends who had also come into view.

"What do you want?" I growled.

"You both keep asking that and yet, my answer has never changed," she crossed her arms.

"I don't know why you're so obsessed with this," I glared, "But you need to let it go. How can you be so selfish?"

"Hah!" the girl forced a scornful laugh, "That's a riot coming from _you_ , Mark."

My eyes glinted hurt, "You're right. I _was_ selfish...and I let innocent people get hurt because of it. But I learned from my mistake. I did what I could to fix it and not let it happen again. But you," my pain turned to anger, "Are petty and childish and you need to grow the fuck up."

The teenager cocked her head to the side, "Little hard to do when I was _killed_ before given the chance."

I shook my head, perturbed by her petulance.

"I don't know why you keep trying," Devin chimed in, "We've made it clear we're not going to help you in any way _ever._ So why do you keep coming back?"

"He's right," Damian had inched up to Emma and whispered, "It's just a waste of time."

The girl didn't move from her position and after a moment, the boy next to her put his hand gently on her shoulder. She jerked away instantly and gave him a hateful look, "No!" she yelled, "You're such an idiot, Damian! These jerks don't deserve to be happy! To just forget about us and move on!"

An expression which I'd never expected of the older partner lit his face then. He had been absolutely crushed by her words. Not only that, but I sensed longing in his eyes. There was something more there that I hadn't seen before. Emma was alone in this quest of hers. The younger boys had struck me from the beginning to just be looking to have fun, as kids do, and Damian had always acted as protector and defender. However, it was their leader alone who had any invested interest in the case. My annoyance seemed to dissipate at this realization and I spoke once again to her with a softer tone.

"Emma," my wings flitted shut as I took a step away from Devin to stand directly in front of her, "I won't pretend to understand your pain, but...you know I've had my share of it. I never thought there was a light at the end of the tunnel until I finally found it. I know you can find yours too."

I don't know what I anticipated to happen when I offered this bit of hope. A change in her eyes? Some sort of inkling that she heard my sincerity even if she didn't outright act as though she cared? Hell, I would have been happy if she remained silent and just left. At least that could have meant something positive. Nonetheless, the utter despite within her grew after I finished talking and she lunged forward with a scream.

Somehow, even this outcome didn't surprise me though I couldn't say the same for her friends. While Todd and Chris hollered in delight at the new action, Damian stood shocked, seemingly trying to decipher the situation. I threw my hands up, taking hold of her wrists to push her back off of me, but the despairing ghost apparently held a good manner of power of her own. However, I knew it wasn't enough to match mine.

Barring my teeth as I finally threw her away, I gave a single warning, "You don't want to fight me."

"What are you going to do? _Kill_ me?" the girl scoffed, once more rushing forward only to be stopped by the gentle presence of a baseball bat swinging in front of us.

The both of us settled our vision on the trench-coat clad ghost who had stepped in between us, holding his weapon out to the side. At first I thought he meant for the battle to cease as he stared at me momentarily with no malice in his eyes, "If you insist on fighting," he said softly, "I will fight for you, Ems."

He spoke to the girl without looking at her as if he couldn't bear to...like he didn't want to fight...he just wanted to make her happy. My stance lessened, feeling less aggressive as I considered the back story with the two to which I was ignorant. It seemed the perfect time for her to give in...to give up and tell him not to bother, that they would go. At the very least, her refusal of his help could have been predicted. Yet she did nothing. Another moment of silence passed as I waited for any of them to make the first move and finally, Damian did.

He skipped forward, swinging his bat full force, his face tightened though he didn't show any signs of aggression other than the attack itself. I spun to the side, my wings pulling close to allow me a smoother, quicker movement. The boy fell into the strength of his own blow and in the seconds it took him to recover, I had already approached his back and drew my own weapon, holding the tip of its blade in the middle of his spine. In a normal battle, it would have been enough for him to realize he was defeated, as all I need do was press deeper to sink the sword into his lungs.

But it wasn't a typical duel and I honestly had no idea how much damage I could actually deal here. Damian twisted to face me again...not fast enough. As his arm lifted the chunk of wood as if to strike me at the end of the turn, I did indeed, shove my blade into him. It felt just like each of the times in Hell when I had injured or destroyed another in the same manner. Like piercing flesh at first, only to fall inside an empty hull. And, just like landing such an attack on a demon, the ghost faltered with the blow.

"DAMIAN?!" Emma's cry sounded as she rushed forward, ignoring me and crouching to grab onto the boy as he fell to his knees. "What the hell..." she whispered to his face as as it came to rest against her chest.

"I'm sorry, Ems," he mustered, obviously fading while gazing into her eyes.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?" the girl had turned tearful eyes onto me.

"Ems..." Damian whispered again, lifting a hand and trailing her cheek with his fingertips.

Emma looked hopelessly back at him, her lips quivering as she failed in fighting through speechlessness. Not an instant longer, the boy's hand dropped to his side once more...his body going limp. "Damian?" his leader sobbed, "DAMIAN!" she repeated, growing more distressed as his ethereal form slowly began fading...beginning as small flakes being wisped away in the wind...until the entirety of him had disappeared.

The girl sat there, gazing at her empty hands and shaking her head. I looked up from her to see Devin, Todd, and Chris all as stunned as she was...and as I was... _WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?_ Her question echoed in my mind. What _had_ I done? There was no intent other than to protect myself and my boyfriend. I didn't want to hurt the teen, especially upon realizing his heart wasn't in the fight. I was as clueless as the rest.

"MARK, YOU FUCKING MONSTER! I HATE YOU!" Emma shot to her feet again and was screaming through falling tears as she stomped in my direction.

She was suffering. Only an idiot wouldn't see that...but it would also take an idiot not to understand she was dangerous and try to stop her. I didn't know what fate awaited Damian at the end of my blade...however, she would soon meet the same. The girl's attacks were ill-placed, her brain not thinking amidst her sorrow. It only made killing her, if that was the right word, that much simpler. Between two flailing punches, I landed my sword directly into her chest, not hesitating before ramming it through to the other side of her body.

I then watched her, as she had watched Damian, slowly fall to the ground and break away into pieces...until there was nothing except the memory of her left. I was too flustered...too overwhelmed by the confusion of the whole ordeal to understand right then how I felt. All I knew was looking up into Devin's eyes, I had done what was needed.

The man ran to me, bringing me into a warm embrace, "It's ok. Are you ok?"

I held onto him, not answering. Instead, I carefully stepped the two of us around to see the last surviving ghosts. Todd and Chris, now not only stunned but clearly terrified, began backpedaling under the weight of my demonic focus. After a few awkward paces, the boys twisted around and tore away, vanishing as they had done so many times before leaving me certain...we wouldn't see them again.


	30. Chapter 30: New Beginnings

Apparently, my ignorance wasn't as obvious as I had thought for as soon as the apartment had cleared, Devin inquired as to how I had banished the two ghosts as if I actually knew. When I clued him into my own confusion, he had then set out to unravel the mystery. He started by asking about what the difference between how I was now compared to how I was in Hell, which was the same as far as I could tell. I also told him about how stabbing them felt the same as when I'd done it to demons.

"Well, did you feel any different afterward?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I tapped the side of the bowl of chili in front of him to gesture that he should eat more.

He had gone ahead and finished preparing the simple meal he had started, disappointed that I didn't want any food myself. I had explained to him that I hadn't feel any sort of hunger since I died so I was really fine. On the other hand, I had noticed earlier that he had lost weight. His muscles had toned down as well so I immediately knew he hadn't been taking care of himself and it worried me.

"I mean," he tried to ignore my prompt and continue so I raised an eyebrow, shifting my vision angrily to his bowl and back up. He rolled his eyes, but quickly swallowed a bite before finishing, "When you killed Emma and Damian...did you feel any stronger afterward?"

I cocked my head, catching his drift, "You're wondering if perhaps that was me feeding? To be honest, I actually feel pretty tired...like drained from doing...whatever I did to them."

Devin's expression became concerned, "Are you ok? You're not hurt, are you?"

"No," I smiled. "Just tired. I know we just got up, but do you think we could lay down for a while longer once you're done eating?"

"Of course," his demeanor didn't change and he instantly rose from his seat, "We should make a plan before trying any tests on you anyway. You know, to figure out your dietary needs and all," the man had walked over to where I sat and placed a hand on my arm, urging me to get up.

"I said we can after you've finished your food," I reminded.

"Oh, I'll do that later," he smiled gently.

I twisted the arm he was pulling at and grabbed his with it, forcing him to fall into my lap, "Finish eating, Devin," I clarified sternly.

His lips lifted into a smirk and he reached over to grab his chili, "You've gotten more dominant."

My eyes softened, "I'm sorry..."

"No! I mean, I wasn't complaining," his lips curled more as he took a spoonful into his mouth.

I relaxed again, "Am I not the same as I was?"

There was a pause.

"No, you're not," he admitted softly, stirring his food before looking up at me, "But you're still you. You're still the man I love. You're just...you know what you want now and you go for it instead of denying yourself so much."

I considered his words..."You know you've changed a little too. You don't act like you have to be strong all the time... I'm glad I can finally be strong for you."

The man blushed, shoving another mouthful of chili down and the two of us sat in silence as he emptied the bowl. Once complete, he tilted it to show me it was gone to which I rewarded him with a quick kiss before finally allowing us to return to the bedroom. Our plan to talk failed because nearly as soon as I laid my head on the pillow, I was gone.

Asleep? Back in Hell? I wasn't sure at first. However, it neither felt like dream or reality in this world or the next. There was an overwhelming sense of...nothing. it was frustrating to describe, but as I walked through the expansive whiteness, I got the feeling that I was in the midst of a void...like a black hole except I was not being damaged in any way. There was no pain yet there was no joy. My brain tried to understand if I liked the place and the only answer it came up with was that I did and also didn't. My entire being felt completely neutral within the space as if I was incapable of feeling anything but nothing which in my past had been a terrible, lonely feeling. However, this was not.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a word came to mind: _Limbo_. It was an interesting concept that many humans believed in. Some believed it to be a part of Hell, but the actual idea was that limbo was a space removed from existence where the soul is sent after the body dies. The realm is where the spirit is purified so that it may enter a perfect eternity in Heaven...or be judged inadequate and doomed to Hell. I already knew both Heaven and Hell were not what humans thought they were so I had no idea why this information sprang upon me or why it was relevant. Nonetheless, I couldn't get rid of the thought that that was where I was.

Was I being judged?

"We meet again," a familiar and friendly voice suddenly spoke.

"Spike?" I questioned the demon's lightened form in front me, "What's going on?" Although I outranked him, he was still older and more knowledgeable than me.

"You're in the human world, I take it?" he asked.

"Well, I..." I glanced around, still seeing nothing except white. "I was. Is this Limbo?"

He tilted his head, "I suppose. It's your realm."

I braced myself for the oncoming vagueness that his help always began with, yet I didn't feel agitated at all by it. "Mine? Why do I feel so removed?"

"I knew you were incredible...rare...but acumen, I didn't ever suspect," the demon mused.

"I'm not familiar with that term," I said.

"It seems your necessary fuel while living on Earth is justice," Spike observed, "It varies from the usual consumption of prey to subsist. Instead you keep yourself alive here by taking in the energy cast off by healing the damaged spirits of others."

I wasn't being judged...I was meant to do the judging. So was that what happened? Did I send those two teens here somewhere? "What of the ones that cannot heal?" I asked, returning to my original thoughts concerning Limbo.

"To my understanding, they would eventually cease to exist, their energy soaking into your domain and nourishing you," he answered.

"How are you here?" I still inquired though I was sure of the answer.

"You were in need of me. I am your servant," the demon bobbed his head slightly as if to bow.

I nodded, "Thank you, then."

As if in response to the simple cue of dismissing him, Spike vanished and once more I was alone. I turned my attention to calling upon Emma and Damian then. Closing my eyes while attempting to summon them, I was greeted with the same unpleasant voice I had heard earlier.

"You fucking shit!" Emma growled, her black skirt swishing rapidly back and forth as she ran toward me, yet she never made any progress.

I watched as the girl remained only a handful of feet away from me, jogging furiously but staying in the same place. Her frustrated shouts and insults upon realizing how stuck she was fell upon deaf ears. I couldn't hear her words any longer though I knew they were there. Instead, my vision was filled with her essence. I saw her aura and her very intent. Staring with this sight, a new word popped into my mind and clung there, just as before: _hopeless._

Her form slowly faded away and I turned my head, placing my gaze on Damian this time. The boy was in a similar state, yet he didn't run. Seeing me, his demeanor perked up and he spoke my name softly. His voice also quickly became an indecipherable echo as his aura appeared to me with another word: _time._ I let the vision of him settle out and I gave one more glance around the white. I blinked, only to lift my lids and see I was still on the bed with Devin curled up in front of me, facing the same way as I was, my arms holding around him tightly.

"I think," he said plainly, "That we should just walk out of the building, get in the car, and go to the store. Just go inside with your wings out and see what happens," the man laughed, "Will find out really quick if others can see you."

I hadn't fallen asleep. I hadn't left. No time had passed and Devin was oblivious to anything that had just happened.

"Mark?" his tone grew serious when I didn't respond to his playful attitude.

"Sorry, I...spaced out," I told him, the events still catching up to me.

He twisted in my arms to see me, "Are you still feeling bad?"

I paused a moment to think, "Actually... I feel much better," I chuckled awkwardly.

I did eventually discuss what happened with him about my enlightenment of my feeding habits. He was thrilled to know it as apparently when I complained of being tired, he had feared I wasn't going to be able to stay there with him after all. And a joke as it may have been, we did end up going grocery shopping, fully exposed, to find that he was, in fact, the only person who saw me though I was certain we would encounter other gifted people who would not be so blind at some point down the road.

My thoughts flew to Maggie, wondering if she would be one of these exceptions. After a few days, she stopped by to check on Devin and I was somewhat disappointed that she didn't see me either. But before departing, the woman stopped to give my lover an oddly comforting warning.

Her eyes fluttered around the apartment as if peering through a fog to find someone, "Be careful, Devin. I feel like something is near to you."

The man had glanced back at me, but Maggie had already turned and walked out the open door. It was going to be a strange life... No doubt difficult for both of us. But at least we had each other and more than that, we had the will to keep going.


	31. Alternate Ending Part 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: My sadistic and talented friend** **Eris345** **aka Fiona the gamer fox, proposed an alternate ending. I loved the idea so got her permission to write it. We've been discussing it and have decided on the story so I am pleased to present to you this alternate ending, credit to** **Eris345** **for the idea and story outline and also for the OC Fiona. She's on Wattpad if you would like to check out her amazing stories.**

 _What? What the fuck is going on?_ The last thing I remembered was sending Devin out of the dream world as I lay dying, making him promise to kill Krueger. Now I was next to the high school in Springwood, completely alone.

"Hello?" I called as I spun around.

My voice echoed through the empty street, seemingly bouncing off the very atmosphere itself. I stayed still, trying to listen for any sort of sound other than my own breathing, but everything was eerily silent. I looked back to the steps of the school where I had first met Emma and her friends. Shrugging, I stepped closer, thinking that maybe the ghosts would appear if I intruded on their spot. This had to be something to do with them, right?

However, as I approached, nothing happened. My attention darted from the school to where I had come from and then back to the building again. Guess I'll go inside and see what's up. I reached out and grabbed hold of the railing beside the stairs, yet the moment I lifted my foot, a bloody vision flashed before me, causing me to jump back onto the street behind me. I paused, trying to catch my breath while also attempting to register what I had seen. It was so fast, I couldn't remember many details...all I knew was that there was a stain of blood on the second step...someone's head lying in the middle of it. I took another step back before spinning around.

"HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK?!" I screamed when I was met with an unfamiliar face.

A teenage girl was standing there, but it wasn't Emma. This girl was younger...fourteen, maybe? And blonde with blue eyes...her clothes were much cheerier than the goth as well. She wore a light pink tshirt and blue shorts. She seemed perfectly normal...not like the other teens who made it obvious they were trying to scare people. Yet somehow, as I gazed upon her face...she seemed even more intimidating than the ghosts who had stalked, threatened, and beat me up. Her intense eyes were out of place compared to her appearance.

Taking a careful pace backward, I decided to address the girl, "Hey...who are you?"

She raised an eyebrow as if annoyed that I had asked, but she did reply, "Someone more appreciative than you."

Her words were cold, sending a shiver through me as I attempted to back up further, simultaneously preparing to draw my weapon, "Um..."

The girl didn't let me get far though. She was instantly upon me, giving no time for me to finish the motion that would have summoned my sword. She was much shorter than me so I didn't anticipate her being able to grab onto me so easily. Nonetheless, both her hands grasped my shirt at the chest, tugging me forward before shoving me back so that I tripped over the steps behind me and landed painfully on my ass.

"You have got to be the most selfish and dumb person..." she paused for a moment as if a thought struck her, "Well," she continued in the same harsh tone, "Maybe not the most, but you're definitely up there."

My mind was urging me to get to my feet and try to defend myself again, but my body was quivering. How the fuck was she so scary? I thought I had been pathetic for allowing Emma to push me around yet somehow felt it was wise of me not to fight this girl. Human, ghost, demon, I didn't know what she was, but there was much more than a simple child contained within the young girl in front of me. So I sat where I was and stared back, managing a question as the entire scenario began to make sense, "Were you one of Freddy's victims?"

She scoffed loudly, "Freddy isn't the only evil in the world, Mark."

My brow furrowed and I tried to reach a more comfortable position while considering what she said. She cut her eyes, making it obvious she was looking down on me both literally and figuratively as she watched me shift to sit with my hands resting in my lap. "What did I do to piss you off, then?" I asked.

The question served only to piss her off further. Stomping to close the distance in between us and lowering her upper body so that our eyes could not look anywhere except into the other, I saw a burning fury there like that I had never seen before. "Ignoring how you _murdered_ kids by stupidly and selfishly resurrecting Freddy for your own desires," she growled, "You're an idiot for not appreciating the life you were given."

I opened my mouth to protest, angry that the abuse of my childhood and the negativity of my lifelong problems were once again being ignored, but she jerked her head forward, the sudden movement that placed those angry spheres closer to me frightening me enough that I kept quiet.

"I'm well aware," she continued, "That you've had a rough, shitty life. However, the fact remains that instead of being glad that you survived that terrible upbringing and fighting for the life you deserved, you let yourself fall into a life just as bad as before. You were unappreciative of the chance you were given to live and thrive. Many kids..many adults even...never physically make it past the abuse. They _die_ , Mark. They die hoping for just the chance at life and yet even though you were granted that chance...you threw it away."

She paused for a minute to let what she had said settle into my mind, but she didn't even inch away from her position, our eyes locked and the angry energy within hers literally burning me and causing my body and soul to ache.

"Everything that happened during your adult life? The drugs, living on the streets...that is on you. Stop denying it and actually take advantage of the opportunity you were given," she continued. "It's not something everyone gets...be grateful and stop trying to waste it with your dumbass suicidal ideations."

"Well, it's a little late for that now, isn't it?" I complained in a soft, defeated voice, "I'm already dead."

"Are you?" the girl smirked, lifting a finger and poking my forehead once.

My vision was immediately covered in darkness and even though I didn't remember closing my eyes, they shot open. And I was no longer sitting...I was laying down. I shook my head, trying to see, but there was only black. I tried to sit up only to realize I was trapped...was this...was I in a box? I eased back into the rested position, lifting hands to feel the the wood only inches above me. _Holy shit. What the fuck?_ Hands curled into fists and I started banging on the container.

"LET ME OUT!" I screamed, "LET ME OUT YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES!"

I couldn't tell if I didn't hear anything because there was nobody nearby of if I was just too loud inside of the box that all my ears picked up on were my own sounds. However, soon, the barrier in front of me lifted away and I was met with a brightness and voices. I immediately rose to remove myself from the prison and as my eyes adjusted to the light, they scanned my surroundings.

I was in a graveyard... There were a handful of people standing around, all of them gawking. The priest and a few others who I assumed to be workers were standing around where I had crawled out of...a coffin... _my_ coffin. The box was sitting displayed next to an open plot. _Holy shit._ I turned back around. A couple of my coworkers were there as was my boss and landlord. And Maggie was as well. Then, the only person present who I cared about lunged at me, throwing his arms around me and squeezing tightly.

"Devin?" I whispered, accepting and returning the embrace as the man sobbed.

It was a strange affair for sure. Apparently I had not only died and been declared so, but my body was prepared for burial...meaning my organs had been removed in addition to my blood. However, when I was taken to the hospital after emerging from the coffin, scans showed that everything was in its proper place. Police even got involved and I was subject to questioning and even DNA tests to prove I was indeed, Mark Chressler, and not someone put in my place as a sick joke or elaborate hoax. I quickly became a sort of town legend.

"So you think she did this? Bringing you back and all?" Devin asked me as we lay in bed that night.

"Has to be. I don't know how, but...it had to have been her," I answered.

"I wonder who she is?" the man hummed.

"I don't know...I'd like to find out, though," I said, "She acted like Freddy wasn't the one that killed her, but she was at the school in Springwood so she has to be connected to that town somehow, right?"

"I would think so," Devin mused, "What about the vision? The one with the blood on the steps?"

"What about it?" I wondered.

"Maybe that has something to do with why she was there. What if you were seeing her death?" he pointed.

"I hadn't thought about that..." I rubbed my chin in thought, "Want to help me with some research tomorrow? Perhaps even head to Springwood? As I recall," my tone fell from solemnity to flirtatious, "You wanted to go on a trip there with me."

The man chuckled, "It's a date, then."

The two of us fell asleep and the next day had come without any fuss. However, when I awoke, Devin was not at my side. At first, I was flustered, worried that something had happened to him or maybe to me...maybe I hadn't actually risen from the dead but was instead in some sort of torturous limbo. I sprung from the bead, quickly stomping around the room looking for him before taking to the kitchen, relieved to see him standing there in front of a brewing pot of coffee.

"Good mor- oof!" the man started to greet me, taken off guard when I threw myself onto him with a suffocating hug.

"Sorry," I muttered, slowly pulling back away.

"It's ok," he smiled. "I met your friend, though."

I shot him a confused expression.

"The girl that brought you back to life? She visited me in my dreams last night...I think," he clarified.

"You think?" I repeated.

"I mean, I'm not sure if I was just in a dream or somewhere else. I was asleep anyway," he said.

 _"YOU IDIOTIC SON OF A BITCH! DO YOU WANT TO RISK GETTING MORE KIDS KILLED, OR ARE YOU AS DUMB AS YOUR BOYFRIEND HERE? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" the girl bellowed as she slapped Devin across the face._

"So I'm not the only moron," I half-way laughed after Devin had recalled the events of his dream to me. "I can't believe you were going to try and summon a demon just so you could figure out how to find me again."

The man shrugged, "I'd do anything to be with you. I've never met anyone like you before and I know I never will again."

My lips flirted awkwardly with a smile, entirely happy that he felt that way about me and at the same time feeling that I was unworthy of such love, "Is your face ok?"

"Yeah, but god fucking dammit, that had to be the hardest slap ever!" he laughed, rubbing the spot on his cheek where, I presumed, her blow had landed.

I ended up sitting down at the computer while he put together an extremely odd breakfast out of the last remnants of food in the kitchen. I started out by typing in _Springwood, OH children deaths_ and got a lot of hits about Fred Krueger as well as one concerning a flu epidemic several decades before the slasher's trial. I backspaced up to the abbreviation and instead entered _deaths at high school._

Another couple of articles about freak accidents came up. There was something about a girl having a fatal asthma attack during class that I couldn't figure out one way or the other and then a story about a PE teacher that was found tied up and sliced to death in the showers. That one _had_ to be Krueger, but neither one of them had anything to do with what I had seen. I kept scrolling and finally came across this headline:

 _Handicapped Teen Dies From Concussion On School Steps_


	32. Alternate Ending Part 2

"Read that out loud," Devin had walked up behind me to give me a plate with hot dogs, oranges, and mashed potatoes and had spotted the link I was looking at. He then strolled around to the side and sat down with his own food: a couple of slices of bologna, eggs, and the rest of the orange.

" _Fiona Foxx, aged 14, passed away today after falling out of her wheelchair and sustaining a blow to the head. Her fellow students who witnessed the attack were traumatized, but managed to tell authorities that they had been walking with Fiona when one of them tripped over the chair's foot break, jarring the girl from her seat. Services will be held..."_

"Damn. That's pretty brutal," Devin observed. "Poor girl."

"Yeah..." I mumbled, staring at the screen.

"What's wrong?" the man asked, obviously realizing that something was on my mind.

"It's just...I feel there's more to the story," I looked up at him. "As horrible as this is in itself, the way she acted with both of us makes me think something is missing here."

"Hm...yeah I get that too," Devin picked up an orange slice and popped it into his mouth. "What's the year? Maybe there's someone we can talk to about it."

I looked at the screen again. According to the article, it happened just before Freddy's last killing spree. Well...his last one before I brought him back. The thought struck me that perhaps her death somehow triggered his return that time. Replacing my hands on the keyboard, I began searching for any relatives of the girl by typing in her name. Apparently, she had been an only child. Her mother and father had different last names...hers matched her dad's so I figured he must have had custody of her.

My fingers crept from the buttons and found the phone that was lying on the table beside the monitor. I quickly picked it up and dialed Maggie's number. When the woman answered, I could tell she was still a bit put off by witnessing me coming back from the grave.

"William Foxx?" she repeated the name, "No, I don't recognize it, but I can no doubt locate him for you if he's still around. Give me a second."

"Thanks," I nodded even though she couldn't see me and patiently waited. I heard some shuffling and a few clicks before she started talking again though her voice was faint. I tried to respond at first until I realized she wasn't talking to me. I assumed she had made another call to figure the information out so I just kept waiting, barely able to make out any of her words.

"He's a patient at Westin Hills," suddenly her voice was strong again.

"Where?" I asked.

"It's a psychiatric institute on the outskirts of town," Maggie informed.

"Oh, I see... Is there any chance of meeting up with him then?" I wondered.

She hesitated, "Visiting hours are between one and four in the afternoon, but visitors are only allowed to stay half an hour."

"Alright. I appreciate your help," I told her, readying to disconnect the line.

"Mark?" her odd softness stopped me.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Just...be careful. I'm glad you're alright and all, but...just be careful," her words felt like both a warning and a plea.

"I'm not going to start any more trouble, Maggie," I promised her. "I'm only curious."

Once the call ended and we had finished eating, or rather Devin had finished eating considering I was still giving him most of my food, we loaded into my car and set out for Westin Hills. Even though the building didn't look anything out of the ordinary, it had an extremely discomforting essence about it. It stood alone, removed by a few miles from any other structures and it was constructed of old bricks that had been painted white. Once we got closer to the institute, I noticed that there was a leveled lot next to it with a few piles of rubble still scattered about like there had once been a second building. The inside was clinical, just as any other hospital. The receptionist greeted us without smiling, asking for our names and IDs as well as our reason for being there. I told her we were there to visit William Foxx. She seemed surprised, but didn't question it.

After a few moments of clicking information into the computer in front of her including scanning our IDs and getting our signatures, she pointed us to the direction of a closed door. She said to wait there and someone would show us to the a meeting room soon. And they did. The man was just as detached as she had been as he unlocked the door, watching us carefully as we entered before guiding us to a small, empty room with nothing but a table and a couple of chairs inside.

After closing the room's door behind us, he disappeared, coming back shortly with a second man, dressed in a plain white tshirt and black gym shorts who I assumed was William Foxx. I also assumed he had to have something wrong with his internal temperature or else he liked it cold because I was fully dressed and still felt chilly. Foxx placed a scrutinizing gaze on us, his eyes making it clear he was both paranoid and not all with it. He made his way to one of the chairs and sat, vision scanning the room before resting on my boyfriend and me. The orderly stayed at the door, watching the three of us in silence.

"They didn't tell me you were coming," Foxx stated plainly, lifting bandaged arms to rest on the table between us.

Doing my best to ignore the obvious recent self-harm wounds, I spoke directly and politely, "We didn't tell anyone we were coming. It was a spur of the moment thing we only decided this morning."

The man's head twitched, "Doesn't matter. They always tell me things. They know things even before you do."

My eyes squinted at him, darting quickly to Devin who was equally ignorant before looking back, "Who are they again?"

He leaned farther across the table and whispered, "The spirits."

Spirits? Did he see ghosts too? "Oh, right...yes, they definitely do that," I said nervously.

"Sh..." he turned his head to the side and stared at the blank wall beside us, "He's here now. You can see him there. I know you can."

I glanced over to the nothingness that had his attention before turning to Devin who shrugged. We both _knew_ I could see ghosts. Devin saw them too after being around me...but Foxx? He was looking at absolutely nothing. "Mr. Foxx," I started in a much softer voice, "I was wondering if you could tell me about Fiona."

His focus was on me instantly, "My baby?" he whispered. "She's in Heaven. They told me so."

"Heaven?" Devin spoke up for the first time.

"Yes...after what those brats did to my perfect angel...she went to Heaven where she can run and fly. She's so happy there...so healthy and happy..." the father's eyes fell, rolling back and forth as he smiled.

"What brats?" I prompted carefully.

The man's head shook violently twice and his smile faded, "They were jealous...jealous of my baby so they bullied her...THEY KILLED HER!"

When his voice raised angrily with that last statement, so did his eyes...blue eyes that matched the girl who had given me a second chance at life. I heard the nurse behind me shift at the door, but when I looked, saw that he hadn't left his post yet. "Mr. Foxx, who killed Fiona?"

"Emma," he hissed, "And her pedophile boyfriend."

Emma? Damian? Was Todd and Chris involved too?

"Those wretched little cunts pretended it was an accident...but I know better! They can't fool us!" I had clearly upset William Foxx as he pounded his fist against the table and started to stand as he yelled, "They took my baby from me! They ended her life! A life she deserved so much more than them!"

The nurse then stepped around the table and held his hands up in front of the man, "Calm down, William, you're safe. Everything is alright."

Foxx threw his hands onto his head and pulled at his hair, simultaneously trying to fight back a yell and failing. As he screamed into the room, still holding onto his head, the orderly pressed forward, pulling a shot out into view, making me wonder when he had retrieved the injection. Without hesitation, he grabbed onto the patient's arm and inserted the needle. Foxx attempted to fight back, however he instantly fell limp under the influence of the powerful drug.

As the nurse took a better hold of the man, keeping him on his feet and pulling his arm over his shoulder to give him better balance and guide him back into the hospital, I saw that Foxx was still conscious and mumbling. Before they could get back into the hall, I got out of my seat and stepped forward, leaning down and whispering in the poor father's ear, "It's ok...Fiona is in Heaven...she's happy."

Though I knew the words were untrue and therefore empty, my effort wasn't wasted. William's lips curled into a smile and I heard him mumble, "My baby. Daddy's so glad you're happy."

I watched as the two men made their way for the door which Devin scurried to open for them, closing it carefully after they made it through, "The plot thickens," he said jokingly crossing his arms once we were alone again, "What is it with you and attracting vengeful teenage ghosts?"

I shook my head, "I don't know. But I don't think Fiona is very much like Emma."

"What do you mean?" Devin inquired.

"She seemed...sincere. I mean, not hypocritical. She was angry with me for not appreciating my life and she yelled at both of us about bringing Freddy back," I observed. "But unlike Emma and her friends who made a habit of throwing insults, sometimes obviously empty ones and other times trying to take them back just to get what they wanted...Fiona was very...mature. As if what she had to say was not only well-thought out, but it was honestly what she felt."

"Hm...now that you mention it, she did come off that way," Devin rubbed his chin, "She certainly has a presence that demands respect. I'm not easily intimidated...but holy fuck."

I laughed at my boyfriend and our conversation ended there seeing as the nurse had returned to show us out. Back in the parking lot, just as I placed my hand on the car, I felt as though I were being watched. Looking up over the roof of the vehicle and past Devin's shoulder, I saw a girl in blue shorts and a pink shirt standing on top of one of the leftover piles of stone from where the unseen building had been demolished.

Devin twisted his neck to look, but apparently saw nothing, "What is it?"

My gaze went from him to where I had seen the girl and realized she had vanished, "It was Fiona."

"Yes?" a voice sounded clearly behind me, causing my heart to jump as I spun around, banging my back against the car door.

"Christ! Fiona, was that necessary?" I exclaimed.

She grinned, "I knew you were curious enough to figure out who I was."

"Curious? Yeah, but I would think it was smarts that allowed me to figure it out, not simple curiosity," I spat.

" _You_ would think that, Mark. I wouldn't say it showed you were intelligent, just that you're not a complete idiot," she returned.

"Anyway, why-" I rubbed off the insult and tried to figure out what she was up to.

"How's my dad?" the girl interrupted.

"Um...alive. He's, uh...happy that you're...happy in Heaven," I stumbled over an appropriate answer, not even bothering to refuse her question.

"I was all he had," she told me, eyes never leaving me and never losing their tenacity. "Losing me didn't treat him well. I knew it was only a matter of time before his damaged psyche created an alternate reality for him...one that was less painful."

"So...he doesn't see spirits, does he?" I asked softly.

"No. I've tried to visit him, but he's too human. He's also too far gone in his own delusion to develop any sight now," Fiona answered.

I hesitated before asking anything else. It seemed that the girl was in a gentler mood though looking into her eyes, I could see the viciousness looming just beneath and I didn't want to bring it out again, "What do you wa- um...what can I do for you?"

Fiona stared at me a moment before cocking her head to the side, "Get rid of that damn box-cutter."

My brow furrowed at the odd command, but then my face slowly eased in understanding that she was pressing me to embrace life instead of harming myself and others. The instant that this realization was clear on my face, a small smile crossed her lips and she vanished without trace.


	33. Alternate Ending Part 3

I don't know why, but the first thing I did upon returning home was find my blade and throw it in the trash. Then I ended up staring at the garbage bin for several moments before deciding it wasn't good enough and taking the entire bag out to the dumpster despite it not even being nearly full.

"She's really gotten into your head, huh?" Devin remarked after I had completed the task.

I shrugged, "I don't know. She's like...a therapist...a really good one that would also kick my ass if I fucked up again."

The man sitting on the couch laughed, "I can see that."

"Isn't my boyfriend supposed to be running to my defense?" I joked.

"Against that bitch? You're on your own, baby," Devin belted though I wasn't sure how serious he actually was. "Besides," he added once our laughing started to calm, "I don't think you're supposed to fight your guardian angel."

My expression fell dumb, "Guardian angel?"

"Well, I mean," he explained, "She clearly has an interest in protecting you."

"She also definitely has powers that the other ghosts don't possess," I mused, "I had considered that she wasn't just a ghost, but perhaps a demon... However, I guess the only reason I thought demon was because it was the only other creature I've met. Thinking about it, I don't think she is one of them because she acts differently."

"How so?" Devin wondered, "Other than, you know, not murdering children in their sleep?"

"She's helpful," I shrugged. "Even that other demon I met in Hell that I told you about?"

"Spike?"

"Yeah, even he was...reserved. He helped me out, but it was like he honestly didn't care one way or the other. Like he did it out of boredom but not a desire to be kind," I thought back to astral travelling to find Krueger.

"Certainly not the stereotyped light and fluffy winged creature though, is she?" Devin smirked.

I chuckled, "No and we've already been taught not to pay attention to stereotypes."

"Mark?" his smirk fell into a sweet smile.

"Hm?" I let my demeanor become more serious as well.

"I know you haven't been back long and you've had a lot to focus on," the man got up from his spot on the sofa and stepped slowly towards where I sat on the chair beside it, putting a hand on each of the arm rests and leaning down with his face directly in front of mine, "But I was hoping I could take that focus away long enough to gift you something."

The close proximity had my body stiffening, swallowing loudly and unable to look away from his flirty brown eyes, "Why would you want to give me-" I began to ask nervously, his lips suddenly upon mine, sucking them closed. This time, I kissed him back, remembering how I had insisted on moving slow when he tried to share this passion with me before and regretting it...seeing how I _had_ died directly after.

I could feel him wanting to go further, reach out and touch me, yet he politely held back, keeping with the kiss instead. I had never had sex with a man. However, I knew that I wanted to make love to Devin so I was the one who reached out, throwing my arms around his neck and lifting myself closer to him. He let go of my lips briefly enough to smirk, then our mouths were together again while his own hands found my shoulders. He started stepping back away from the chair, pulling me with him. I may have never been with a man, but I knew bedroom eyes when I saw them.

As fast as it may have been, Devin was very careful with me and at the end of our encounter, I wondered why I had never tried men before. Probably like I had told him, I'd never really been stable enough in mind to think much on my sexuality. Anyway, we talked for a little while afterward as we laid in bed and soon, my boyfriend had fallen asleep. I planned to as well, yet somehow stayed up much later contemplating Emma and Damian and Fiona and her father...everything that had happened to all of them. I felt like I owed Fiona for saving my life and I did actually feel sorry for the goth ghosts.

Pondering what I could do to help all of them move past the trauma of their short lives as well as repay my savior, I began to think that perhaps if only they could all meet one more time...they could work things out. Maybe Fiona could get Emma to see that she didn't need to get revenge, certainly not at the expense of others. Maybe, I could get them all together... I finally fell asleep with this in mind: that I would call all of them inside my dream.

Closing my eyes to slumber and opening them to find myself standing in the same place next to Springwood High's stairs, I looked around, both making sure I was in a the dream realm this time _and_ determining that I was alone. I decided it would be best to try and contact Emma and her gang first. One, because I figured they'd be less likely to come if they sensed Fiona there and two, because something made me feel that my guardian would be easier to contact. However, I instantly realized that she was already there.

"I guess you could call me your guardian angel," Fiona gave a short laugh upon seeing me.

Thrown off by her presence and the clear fact she'd either been watching me or reading my mind, it took me a minute to formulate a response, "So you _are_ an angel?"

"No," she stated flatly, "But humans don't really have a term for what I am. I do typically reside in a realm not unlike Hell, but with a...lighter energy...a heaven of sorts, so as best as it can be put into words, I'm your guardian angel."

"Fair enough," I shrugged, "I'm kind of resigned to knowing I'm not going to fully understand everything about the universe."

I expected a laugh, but Fiona only stood there and stared at me, "What are you up to?"

It would have seemed an innocent curiosity, a simple greeting, if it hadn't been for the tone she had said it with. Her voice was flat and accusatory as if she suspected that I had some sort of mischievous plan. I guess I sort of did... "Um," I swallowed nervously, "I actually thought that it would help you, Emma, Damian...if you all could meet... I mean, I know that she hasn't been able to get over what happened to her and I thought maybe if you all talked it out with uh...you know what happened to you and all...that maybe they could move on and maybe you'd have some closure too."

The girl's eyes in front of me had never ceased to speak of fury, but at the mention of my idea, they flashed brighter with that rage as if it began to seep out and spread onto her face. I immediately regretted sharing and threw my hands up apologetically, "Ok, yeah, that was a bad idea."

"No," Fiona breathed without displaying the anger that was clearly echoing inside of her being, "I think that is a very good idea... Your powers...you can call them here?"

"Yeah..." I answered awkwardly.

"Alright. Do it and I'll talk to them," Fiona's smirk when she spoke unsettled me.

Nonetheless, I pictured the ghost teens in my mind and reached out to them, calling their names. At first, I thought maybe they wouldn't come...that perhaps my powers weren't as strong as they were before I died. However, Emma's curt voice sounded to relieve me of that doubt.

"Thought you died."

I opened my eyes and rested a glare on the leader and her surrounding posse, "I did. Thanks for the concern."

"Then how the fuck did you get back?" she returned with arms crossed defiantly.

"I brought him back," Fiona growled from behind, stepping into view.

The looks on the gothic kids' faces at that moment were a complete shock to me. Emma dropped her arms immediately, faltering from her heavy gaze with a step backward as Damian reached for his bat. His expression change wasn't as obvious, but it was there. Todd and Chris, on the other hand, were entirely betrayed by their frightened eyes and how their mouths dropped to gape.

Emma attempted to regain herself by lifting her arms to point angrily at me, yet her shaking, squeaking voice showed her failure, "How fucking dare you, Mark! Bringing that freak around us!"

My brow furrowed in confusion, "Freak? She saved my life...a life, I might add, that YOU encouraged me to throw away!"

I glanced over at Fiona to see that not only was she unbothered by the other girl's outburst, but seemed amused by it. Her lips had curled into a devious smile though she continued to just stand there in silence as if waiting for the the scene before her to progress.

"We're out of here!" Emma growled, turning on her heel to walk away, "Keep your dumbass and your freakish friends away from us."

My eyes darted back to the guardian beside me, expecting her to say something, but the only thing she did was turn her head toward me and raise her eyebrows as if she'd only agreed to the meeting to prove to me that Emma was truly being evil..as she had been evil to the wheelchair bound girl during her life.

"No," my gaze turned into a glare and was back upon the goth kids who turned at the sound of my voice.

"No?" Emma repeated, spinning and stomping two paces toward me. "What do you mean, no?"

"This is my dream...my world...you're not leaving," I said, suddenly convinced I had the capability to keep them here.

Emma scoffed, "Yeah, right, as if..." Her face suddenly fell and she trailed off, wavering in her stance with eyes shifting nervously back and forth until they landed angrily on me again, "Mark, you let us the fuck out of here. DO YOU FUCKING HERE ME?"

As she stomped forward more to close the distance between us, Fiona casually stepped in front of me, lowering a protective gaze onto the ghost, "Back off, bitch."

Emma did nothing to hide her sheer terror as she quickly backpedaled away from us, stopping once she was in line with Damian again. My guardian angel then turned her head slightly to the side so that her vision was still on the kids, but she could see me out of the corner of her eye, "Mark," she said softly, "Let me enlighten you to what really happened."

My eyes caught movement to the side of her body and saw she had lifted a hand, palm up in the air and had it hovering there. Uncertain, yet feeling that she meant for me to take it, I also reached out and slowly dropped my hand, palm down, onto hers. Right before the two touched, everything around me fell away, my mind sucked into a bright light that slowly faded...leaving me in front of the school just as before, except it was slightly different...

Fiona, Emma, and the others were no longer standing in front of me and I could hear a lot of sounds. There were cars humming to life in the parking lot and other vehicles speeding down the roads behind were I stood. There were also a multitude of voices... Vision scanning the area, I saw many students outside the building. Some were just exiting, some were gathered in small groups and chatting, and others were walking on their way to their cars or down the sidewalk to their homes. But it was one voice in particular that stood out to me when it sounded from behind.

"Just leave me alone, guys. I'm just trying to wait for my dad to pick me up."

It was Fiona. She was sitting in a wheelchair, rolling herself across the sidewalk in front of the school steps. Emma, Damian, Chris, and Todd were all crowding around her, making it hard for her to continue on her way.

"Aww poor baby has to have Daddy take care of her?" Emma taunted, skipping to step in front of the chair trying to make Fiona stop moving.

The younger girl, however, did not, and kept rolling until the foot rests on her wheelchair banged into Emma's calves, making her yell angrily, "Fucking bitch! That hurt!"

"Serves you right. Now leave me alone," Fiona growled, clearly upset- both angry and tearful as she attempted to stay on her path.

Damian didn't let her though. He forced her to stop by grabbing onto the handles on the back of the chair and jerking it, "Hey, just because you're handicapped doesn't mean you get to be a jerk to my girlfriend."

"You guys are the ones being assholes!" Fiona screamed at him, "I've never done anything to you except try and get you to leave me alone. But you punks always insist on picking on me for no reason!"

"Steal her fucking chair!" Todd cheered, running up with Chris to stand on either side of the seated girl.

"Yeah, that'll teach her!" Chris agreed.

Damian pulled tightly on the handles again while Emma leaned down and put her arms around Fiona's shoulders, attempting to pull her up.

"BACK OFF, BITCH! LET ME GO!" the girl screamed as she beat her fists against Emma's back and chest, finally landing a punch onto the goth girl's face, causing her to retract her arms and rub the injury.

Everyone's attention was on Emma then, worried about her instead of the disabled girl she had dropped, "Jesus Christ!" she complained, "That fucking stung! You want to feel a real punch, you little-" but her threat ended there when her sights came to rest upon Fiona...

Damian, Todd, and Chris instantly spotted the same thing. There, on the second step of the school, laid Fiona's head, her body draped lackadaisically below it, legs bent at unnatural angles. As I looked on in horror with the rest of the group, a puddle of blood began growing beneath her skull, soaking into her blonde hair as those blue eyes, though lifeless, stared from beyond the grave in absolute fury of the undisciplined and evil children who had found so much delight in torturing her...

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so I thought this was going to be 2 or 3 parts, but...get ready for part 4! :D**


	34. Alternate Ending Part 4

I expected to be shot back to the present when the memory ended, but instead, another vision began playing out in front of me. This one was a bit different though. The clearness of reality in which Fiona's death had been shown to me became foggier..like a film had been put over my eyes. It was somewhere between seeing normally and how everything in Hell had appeared. At first I wondered if I had been sent to another realm. However, as I began to make out people and the other new surroundings, I understood I was still within a memory due to how empty and lifeless everything felt despite how it looked.

I was at a funeral again. Inside a church or a funeral home, I couldn't tell, but there was a brown casket up front, decorated with light pink and blue flowers. There were several men and women as well as teenagers and other kids sitting in the seats lining the auditorium. I decided to walk down the aisle to get a better look at the coffin even though I was certain who it belonged to. Sure enough, when I reached it, I saw Fiona's sleeping face resting on the satin pillow inside. Suddenly, sobbing sounded beside me and I moved out of the way to allow the memory of William Foxx time with his daughter. It was probably a stupid gesture considering what I was seeing was basically a hologram and there was no point to my being polite. Nonetheless, I offered the respect.

The man, though distraught, appeared somewhat more aware of the world around him. Ceremonies were typically held three days after death so perhaps it hadn't all settled into his mind enough at that point to fracture it. I watched as he attempted to choke back tears, reaching a hand inside the casket and resting it atop Fiona's. The moment their skin touched, he inhaled abruptly, no doubt shocked or at least unnerved by the cold, stiff feeling of his recently living young girl. The cries became harder to control then and within a matter of seconds, he broke out in violent wails.

"I'm so sorry, baby. Daddy's so sorry he couldn't protect you. I'm so sorry!"

His desperate apologies and admissions of guilt continued for a time period I couldn't be certain of, but the sight was heart wrenching, drawing tears from a few of the women around and even myself. When it was clear he wasn't going to calm down, a woman, the priest, and then another man each tried to pull the grieving father away, but it only made him sob more furiously.

"I love you so much, sweetheart! Daddy loves you and he's sorry!" the man threw himself over the coffin, stretching his arms around his daughter and resting his forehead on her chest, soaking her dress with the moisture from his eyes.

Tearing myself from the saddening scene unfolding before me, I saw Fiona in her shorts and tshirt standing not a foot behind her father. There was still blood dried on her temple where she received that fatal blow and her eyes didn't seem quite as enraged as I was used to. I opened my mouth to speak to her, quickly closing it upon realizing that she was part of the memory too...I was still in her mind. The girl had attended her own funeral. The teenager slowly lifted an arm, extending its hand to reach out and touch her dad's back. However, right before she could, the other adults were finally successful in removing him from the center of the ceremony and guided him back to his seat.

Fiona turned so that her gaze followed after him yet she stayed in the same spot. It was then that the change came. It was that single instance during which her father was led away from the last bit of comfort that she attempted to give him...when she'd been overcome with fury...the need to make things right and the determination to help others from meeting their end far too early. Seeing her blue eyes, shining with dedication to her new cause even though it was only a picture I was seeing...was what jolted me into the next memory.

Or should I say wave of memories? They say that before you die, your entire life flashes before you. Well, it appeared to me that this is what happened to Fiona except it wasn't dying that forced her to relive her life; it had been the realization of death.

The visions flooded through my brain so fast, I only caught onto a few specific memories. The others I witnessed in the instant but could not recall afterward. There was a younger William Foxx coaxing toddler Fiona to try a piece of broccoli only for her to throw it back at him, the father and child both laughing hysterically when the plant slammed into his face. Then, a little older, the two sit down to watch a scary movie. Little Fiona was excited until a swing started gliding back and forth on its own upon the screen, prompting the girl to get on the floor and crawl out of the room. She was still to young to speak perfectly, but I would have sworn I heard her say something along the lines of "I'm out" as she made her way into the hall.

After that, some less pleasant memories clung to my mind. Perhaps a few years down the road, I saw Fiona at school, trying to walk without help. Initially, I admired her courage and strength...until I realized it was the teacher standing nearby who had decided Fiona should try and was pushing her to do it despite how obviously difficult and painful it was. The girl ended up falling and injuring herself, leading to the teacher being removed from her job. I proceeded to be shown other medical hardships poor Fiona had to endure including having optical surgery...and I didn't mean any small treatment either.

I was shown other things as well. Some pleasant, a lot not so much. In the end, I relived several instances of abuse from Emma and her gang and was left with a reminder of how their childish games had ultimately led to Fiona's premature demise. Once the teenager's young life had been shared with me entirely, I found myself back inside my dream world, amidst the four goth kids and my guardian angel. Inhaling sharply to regain myself after the experience, I stepped away from Fiona and turned a heavy glare onto Emma.

"You fucking piece of trash!" I seethed, stomping closer to the arrogant little leader, "After what you did to Fiona and you have the nerve to sit here and insult her? Say she's the one who's the freak? You have some fucking nerve!"

"Mark," Emma's voice turned petrified...soft and shaking, not afraid of me, but the innocent girl she had slain, "Let us out of here. You have no idea-"

"Oh I have a good idea," I scoffed, "And no...you all can rot for all I care!"

"Oh...they'll do more than rot," Fiona spoke with sadistic conviction behind me.

I twisted to the side, laying sights on her. Her sweet and simple appearance had changed. The vengeful energy in the orbs on her face seemed to have grown, flowing out of her body to cover it with righteous intent. It lifted her small form as if creating powerful ethereal stilts for her while also extending past her arms, giving her shining blue claws over each finger. After enveloping her in raw vitality, the remainder collected upon her back, slowly spreading outwards and in all angles to create wings something in likeness to a butterfly except instead of delicate and fragile, it felt that just standing too close to them would cause you to burn alive.

I stepped further to the side in awe, barely registering the frightened yells of the ghosts as they scurried in an attempt to flee their impending doom. It wasn't until Fiona flew in their direction that I was able to look at anything but her beautifully stupefying true form. As I observed the angel unleash her wrath upon the cruel children, I actually felt sorry for them...but only until the memories that had been shared with me replayed in my head and I recalled how remorseless they were for what they had done.

The battle was incredible to behold though it was hardly a competition. I had come to find out quickly that ghosts held no greater power than humans. Not really. Between what we could do and what they could do, it was basically an even playing field. However with this angel or...angelesque creature, ghosts were definitely on the losing side. Since she had been in front of the group, Emma was nearest and therefore the first of the teens to be attacked.

Fiona easily kicked a foot up to shove the girl to the ground before grabbing her by the ankle and lifting her into the air. Emma let out a yelp, swinging back and forth as she hung upside down and desperately flailed her arms in attempts to land a punch or take hold of her captor in any way. Fiona simply smirked and watched the arrogant child hurl insults and idle threats. Just as the hung girl's face began to blush red, her head becoming light as evidenced by the wavering patterns and strength in her words, the guardian flicked her free claw out to the side before quickly slashing down the length of Emma's body. I wasn't sure what to expect after that as I hadn't a clue how to kill a ghost or if they could even bleed.

The answer was no, they didn't bleed. Instead of spurting red from the horrible gashes, the goth seeped a thick foggy substance, reminiscent of the color of bile. She screamed upon the first tears, but soon her cries turned to gags as Fiona ripped through her lungs and into her neck, giving a last, grim chuckle before dropping the ghost's form to the pavement below. The wronged spirit took no time in bounding from the site, quickly catching up to Todd and Chris. She flitted down so that her body was parallel to the ground and low enough to grab onto each of the boys' legs like she had done with their leader.

Instead of letting them hover just above where they had stood, she shot perhaps fifty feet into the air with forceful flaps of her energetic wings, "Steal my chair? I have a better idea. How about I steal your legs?"

The kids begged for pardon, their still young sounding voices growing even more high pitched as the creature simply released them from her hold, letting them plummet to the ground. My eyes observed their fall, mouth gawking upon hearing the _crack_ of bones breaking when they hit the ground. _They're not actually kids. They're not actually kids,_ I kept reminding myself, blood running cold as they squealed in agony.

Then Fiona's attention went to Damian, who had given up on running and instead shivered in a position not too far removed, holding onto his baseball bat. My guardian made a slow descent from where she hovered, letting out a pleased laugh. Before her feet hit the grass, however, she instantly retreated her wings, causing her entirety to fall full-force upon the still screaming Todd and Chris below. The intensity of this final blow silenced them and I saw the same fog-bile begin to rise.

"Oh yes, you're definitely going to need all the help you can get," she jeered, taking deliberate paces toward the older trench-coat goth, "Not that anything _will_ actually help you."

I expected him to begin swinging as his opponent approached, but instead, he began apologizing, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Fiona! We shouldn't have-"

"No, you shouldn't," she spat. "And you're not sorry...but you will be."

I wasn't even her intended prey and hearing her speak those words sent chills throughout me. I wanted to look away, to make sure I was safe even though I knew she was on my side...but I couldn't. I just stood there and witnessed yet another violent death at the hands of my guardian angel. Damian did finally attempt to strike her and like I anticipated, failed miserably. Fiona casually lifted a claw, grasping hold of the wood before turning it on its owner and beating him with it. Unlike the others, though, he didn't cry. He didn't scream or say anything else...he simply took the hits. It was like he knew he deserved it. The only sounds that came from him as she whacked him across the head, chest, breaking both knees, and finally fully crushing his skull against the asphalt, were defeated groans and grunts...and then silence.

It was, without question, the most eerie, unsettling quiet that I had ever experienced. Nothing in the world moved. There was no sound. No feeling other than utter trepidation. My palms started to sweat as I watched Fiona slowly turn around and take in the gruesome sight of her fallen foes. When her eyes lifted from the gore and up to me, I swallowed hard, but did nothing except wait. She finally began making her way toward me, the blue energy around her fading from where it flowed and retreating back into her eyes. By the time she had reached Emma's body again, it had all but disappeared.

Her gaze fell to the girl whose direct fault her death had been. Only then did I step closer, seeing that her expression seemed...displeased. It was as if she was not satisfied with how rapidly the other girl's demise had been.

"What happens to them now?" I mustered the courage to ask.

Fiona's vision rested on me again, her face flat, lost in thought, "Now they come back...over and over...until they've learned their lesson."

My brow furrowed in confusion, causing her to smile and lift her hands to the sides. The motion brought my attention and I saw that the nasty-colored clouds that had left the ghosts' forms were collecting around the angel. She suddenly jolted her hands out to dispel the energy and it soared away, finding its original owners. I looked on in horror as the goth kids were slowly breathed back to life...

Emma, still the closest, was the first to recover, drowsily waking and rising from her spot, "What the fuck?" she muttered.

"Now," Fiona's voice was stern as she twisted to speak to her murderer, "Do you understand? Are you changed?"

The goth patted her body, realizing she was back to normal, "Yeah, sure whatever."

My teeth gritted, knowing it wasn't a proper response and bracing myself for another slaughter yet the angel gave one more chance, "Explain it to me then."

Emma sighed, crossing her arms and replying in the tone of a pouting three year old, "It was wrong to bully you and I'm sorry."

Really? Was she really that self-absorbed that she was going to roll her eyes at the creature who literally just ripped her apart a few minutes ago?

"I don't believe you are sorry," Fiona's voice taunted and I already knew she was about to wreak havoc on this child again, "Prove it to me."

Emma threw her arms out, "I said I'm sorry. I don't know what else you want me to do," she complained.

Wrong answer. The icy blue energy flowed from Fiona again and her claw was instantly on the other girl's neck, "Tell me how sorry you are."

"I-" Emma tried to choke out, but the grip on her throat was too tight and she couldn't breath let alone form any words. A few seconds and she was tearing aggressively against the claw with her fingernails, her hands simply falling through the energy to come out with burns on them. It was clear on her face the moment she felt the new wounds though she was incapable of creating a sound to match.

"What was that? I can't hear you," Fiona jabbed, her hold on the ghost becoming tighter.

I wanted to ask if it was necessary...wanted to ask her to stop...but I didn't. I thought back to all the times I had been beaten, burned, choked, and otherwise tortured by my parents, guardians, foster brothers, and others during my life. It's what the scenario in front of me brought to mind except there was one difference...one difference that made it ok...Emma was one of those horrid people like the ones that mistreated me. So instead of arguing the necessity of her intense judgement, I found myself enjoying it. My abusers might not have paid...but at least someone's abuser was. And who knows how many other kids they hurt as well.

I didn't know how this was going to end, but just as I caught wind that the other ghosts had gotten to their feet and stood watching us...waiting helplessly for their turn...Fiona gave one final clasp of her claw, completely severing Emma's neck from her body, the ghostly bile pouring from the enormous openings and coming to rest under the angel's free hand...


	35. Alternate Ending Part 5

"Dude, that's brutal," Devin observed after I told him what had happened in my dream the night before.

"Yeah, but I can't say I disagree with what she's doing," I shrugged.

"True...though you'd never be able to do something like that yourself," he laughed.

I tilted my head, "What do you mean?"

The man flipped the stove off and walked away from the eggs he'd been scrambling to where I stood pouring coffee into mugs. He slid close behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, planting a kiss onto my cheek, "Because you're too sweet."

My instinct was to fight the insult. However, it dawned on me that it was a compliment. I was told from infancy how much of a pussy I was. How soft and girly and I was pushed around even more for such things. Crying wasn't acceptable and neither was wanting hugs or attention or doing anything not exceedingly 'masculine.' I was so happy to have overcome it enough to let myself fall back in his arms and just enjoy the tender embrace that I hadn't realized my soul had been longing for...to blush at the thought of him thinking I was sweet.

"So what's the plan?" he asked.

I smiled at the inquiry so typical of him since the day we met, "Well," I kept swaying my body with his, "My boss once again took me back so there's still hoping that you'll get hired as well. Outside of that...I really don't know. Just live, I guess. Take things as they come."

Devin stepped away, quickly twirling me around so that I faced him, "Come on, there has to be _something_ you want. Isn't there anywhere you've ever really wanted to go or do or be?"

My expression fell as I contemplated this and when I had come up with the answer, I turned a grin to my boyfriend, "I've never really wanted anything in life until I met you."

He smiled, "And what did you want after meeting me?"

I became somehow shy and confident at the same time, "I wanted you."

The beam he wore grew, obviously thrilled and flattered to hear me say that to him, but after a moment of enjoying the cutesy answer, he continued to press by countering with, "Well, you have me. Now what's the next thing I can help you get?"

I shrugged again, "I don't need anything else."

"Pfft!" he mocked lovingly, "You technically _need_ a lot of things, but I'm not talking about that. What do you _want_?" He apparently anticipated my further denial the moment I opened my mouth so he kept talking, "Hey, you are like the modern-day Jesus. Maybe we can get you on one of those shows you like so much."

I laughed, "I don't think 'Jesus' is really the topic for a crime show. The news, maybe, and I've already been there."

"Gaahhh!" Devin feigned aggravation, "Let me get you things!"

I reached out and pulled him close to me, "Give me a kiss, then."

My boyfriend happily obliged, coupling a long kiss with another tight embrace. He finally ended it by flicking my nose and threatening, "I'll figure out what you want in life and I'll get you there."

I shook my head and chuckled, "How about we just try to have some down time first, huh? With all the excitement that's happened this past month and without me knowing when my terrifying guardian angel or more ghosts are going to show up...I'd just like some time to relax."

Devin smirked and winked at me, "See? There's something you want. You're letting me get you things already."

I snorted and spun on my heel to finish pouring creamer and sugar into our coffee. I honestly _did_ just want some simple times where I could actually enjoy the simplicity instead of drowning in it...and I didn't know when more spirits and other creatures were going to show up. Especially now that I was starting to get the hang of these horrendous gifts of mine. But then again...I cut my eyes over to Devin as he scooped eggs out onto plates with bacon. These so-called powers weren't too bad...they had led me to the man I love.

"You know, you can get something other than a burger, right?" I poked at Devin as we left the Outback Steakhouse, which had quickly become our favorite place to go out and eat.

"But the burgers are so good though!" he laughed, failing at hiding the nostalgic reason he really always ordered it...not that he was really trying.

"That is true..." I murmured, fiddling with the keys to unlock my car door, suddenly looking up, color running from my face, "Not again."

"What's wrong?" Devin asked worriedly.

It had been five months since trapping the gothic ghosts in my dream for my guardian to torture. Seven good months of working and coming home to relax with Devin, our schedules thankfully mostly inter-lapping so we had more time to spend together. Today...right now...was the first hint during that time that something was going on...that I sensed something. And here of all places? Again?

Slowly, I turned around and looked out to the empty dirt lot next to the restaurant, halfway expecting to see Emma, but definitely expecting to see something. Yet nothing was there. My eyes lingered momentarily before shrugging it off and spinning back around.

"Don't I know you?"

 _SHIT!_ I jumped at the voice...at a face I hadn't seen in a long time as the man walked awkwardly around the hood of the car and getting closer to me, "William? Foxx? I-um," I glanced over at Devin, "Yeah, I'm Mark and this is my boyfriend. We visited you at the hospital."

I was surprised at how smoothly I got the answer out under the weight of his demand which seemed out of place next to the disoriented expression he wore. His eyes darted from me to Devin and back and again.

"Heeeeyy, buddy," Devin drawled nervously, making an obvious note of the sloppy tshirt and shorts as if William had just randomly walked out of lounging at home...or out of the asylum...

"Mr. Foxx? Were you...were you released from the hospital?" I inquired.

His brow furrowed as if he was contemplating it, but abruptly his face fell from thought and into shock...then rose into complete joy, "Fiona?"

 _Fiona?_ I repeated in my head, realizing the man no longer had his sight on me or Devin. Twisting to see what he was focused on, I did indeed, see Fiona.

"Daddy?" the girl suddenly seemed like a girl again instead of the powerful angel.

The father ran up to his daughter without question and hugged her, finally crying happy tears, "Fiona! My baby! Where- how-?"

And as if in answer to everyone's question, he became stock still and I was drawn into the memories he was reliving. His were a lot different than his daughters and obviously due to his age, there were more of them. I watched him grow out of a fairly typical household, date, fall in love, date, shuffle through different jobs, until finally I saw the birth of his only daughter, Fiona. It was the most overwhelming celebration I had ever experienced. That girl truly was his baby, his one and only.

I was then treated to view his following terrible days and breakup with Fiona's mother when the girl was still a baby. But the happy memories didn't end there. They went on to many tiring days and sleepless nights taking care of his child, even the adorable broccoli and horror movie incidents. The day she had been forced to try and walk, I had seen his blue eyes fill with a rage that rivaled hers. The visions came and went. There were still unpleasant ones, but compared to the times he was satisfied just being there for his daughter numbered greater. Then, as I saw an aging Fiona rolling herself in her wheelchair, I realized...it was all about to get very depressing.

I witnessed the days she came home and it was clear something had happened to upset her, yet she kept a strong demeanor, refusing to be a burden to her father...not that she could be. It came, finally, when he caught on to what was happening at school. Of course she insisted she was ok, telling him there was no need to pull her out of school because she could handle herself and didn't want to add the stress of homeschooling. Is that why he felt like he failed in protecting her? My entire body went cold when he was stopped by police on his way to pick her up one day...only to find...she had been killed.

I thought my heart couldn't take more after that...I expected the visions to end, but I had forgotten...he had lived on after that. _For years._ The funeral replayed in front of me; this time without seeing the ghost of his child. After that, the days went by quickly and then slowly...time became a muddle. I watched the happy man literally crumble before my eyes. He went from having the support of others to having nobody as everyone moved on with their lives. Gradually, he began spending more and more time at home...losing jobs as quickly as he could get them...and then he lost his home as well...everything he owned...and at last...he lost himself entirely.

I witnessed the day he was admitted into Westin Hills. How he had been taken into the emergency room after being found roaming the streets, half-naked, mumbling to himself and clinging to his only possession...a photo album of nothing but photos of Fiona and scraps of the clothes she had died in- her favorite outfit.

The doctors told him he would be able to be released as soon as he showed improvement and began taking his medicine. Except he didn't do either. To his credit, he did try the pills. However, when they took away the voices in his head, the 'spirits' he'd been seeing, he couldn't take it. It tore from him his last bit of sanity to realize that he did not, in fact, have any clue as to what happened to his dear daughter after she died. That was when he broke completely, living the rest of his days in delusion until finally, he died as well. He died alone, starving, dehydrated... He had stopped eating for days...his lacking will to live keeping him from recovering at all.

"Fiona! I'm so sorry! I've missed you so much!" I was snapped back to the present, watching the the beautiful reunion until the angel cut her evil eyes at me, sending me a message that needn't be spoken for me to understand: _The fuck you looking at, Mark? Go on._

"A BABY?!" Fiona squealed, making both Devin and I jump.

"Do you ever announce yourself _before_ you pop up?" Devin accidentally jerked the back of my chair where he had been standing and looking over my shoulder as I sat at the computer.

"Shit! Careful!" I complained, shifting to keep myself from falling.

"YOU TWO ARE GOING TO HAVE A BABY?" Fiona continued with the same excitement.

It was true. After two years together, both of us finding better jobs and a good apartment in a decent neighborhood, Devin and I had decided to adopt. "Well, we wouldn't be _having_ a baby, but yes, we both have decided to be fathers," I answered.

"I love babies!" Fiona grinned happily.

Even though there had been moments where softness had shown through the angel's ferocity, she had always remained intense. To see her, for once, completely removed from fury, casting judgement upon wicked souls, and the occasional kick in the ass I needed when the depression was trying to poke at me, was...strange. It was almost as disconcerting as the other option. She must have caught on to our confused stares because she cleared her throat and returned to a hardened stance.

"I assume you are properly prepared for taking on the lifelong responsibility of a child?" she lifted an eyebrow.

"We are," I affirmed, "We're financially and emotionally stable and we want to bring a new member into our family."

Devin placed supportive hands upon my shoulders as we awaited our guardian's approval. Fiona remained stern for several moments until at last, she nodded, "Alright. Well, I'll be watching you."

It was another six months for us to go through the entire process of being approved for adoption as well as the legalities involved with _actually_ adopting. We had wanted to take in an infant until we met many of the children in foster care and living in the orphanages. It was a young boy, about the age of four, who we connected to. The poor thing had been neglected for a handful of months around the time he was a year and a half, basically left to fend for himself when his drug addict mother had abandoned him in an empty crack house when she had gone there and come up dry in her search for a fix.

When he was finally found, he was nearly starved to death and dying of pneumonia. He recovered, barely, and was able to spend time with other kids his age without fuss. Unfortunately, though, he hadn't spoken since the event...not a sound. He was incredibly kind and Devin was even able to get him to smile by making stupid faces, which he had then proceeded to do for twenty minutes without rest just to try and make the kid happy.

He had been presumed to have been birthed at home and raised out of the system as testing his blood had yielded no results. No medical records, no social security number...not even a name. Those at the agency had given him the name Todd. Imagine that. His last name was that of his mother after they had finally located her to legally strip her of her rights to her son. It wasn't hard. She had all but agreed to sign him over to the state in trade of a meal and to stay the night in lockup so she wouldn't be on the street. What a worthless cunt. Though, I suppose it was in his best interest and I had also had my trouble with drugs so I tried not to be too harsh.

Needless to say, we had his name changed as part of the final steps of adoption. We explained to him what we wanted to call him and why. I had taken Devin's last name so James was our family. We told him we wanted to give him a name that was very important to us...those of two very special people.

"Is it ok if we call you Fion William James?" I asked the boy I had been kneeling in front of, awaiting any sort of answer with baited breath.

After a moment of staring idly at the floor and swaying back and forth where he stood, our son looked up, resting his gaze somewhere beyond Devin and I, "Is Fiona the blue lady and William the old man standing behind you?"

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: That's it! Hope y'all enjoyed :3 Would love to hear your thoughts!**


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